


flip the switch and watch them run

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, RIP, dfvkms it was a good idea in my head the execution got me queasy, jesus these tags were messed up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 20:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8299849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: One hundred percent.

Then everything went slow. He saw Keith noticing the shutting doors, the soldiers, Pidge.

He saw the moment it all clicked.

Keith swiped a Galra away from him and whirled around. Lance's eyes widened. He never turned his back on an adversary.

His name ripped out of Lance's throat on it's own accord. 

Pidge flew through the sliver of space, slamming into the pod. Lance scrambled to open it, pulling her inside.

He looked up. Keith was staring at him, breathing hard, a Galra hand just clamping on his arm. His mouth moved.

And the doors shut.
✩★On a mission to retrieve information on the Galra's plans, Keith is captured.





	1. Mission Successful

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my mess. This is unbeta'd, and i reread it like three times before posting, but if anybody is offering, y'know, I won't turn it down. I'm also trying to see if I can find a better section divider, so finger crossed ya'll. This is my [tumblr](http://paladon-t.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Lance is canonically Cuban, but I'm Venezuelan so; like; Im probs using that kinda lingo??? Anything actually Cuban is directly from my friend who yknow IS Cuban. Hi Sof!

Lance’s entire head was engulfed in flames. Not literally because… well because he’d be fucking dead. And who lights fires in space? Keith probably—

It wasn’t literal, but at this point his brain was leaking out of his ears, so he felt he preferred being on fire to

“Seven,” he banged his forehead on the console, “hours,” bang, “no,” bang, “food,” bang, “Pidge,” ba-

She seized his hoodie, pulling him upright. He squawked. “This fleet is the best chance we have to get the information we need on the Galra invasion plan. Get your shit together.”

Swatting her hands away, he popped the front of his jacket, “Yeah, but maybe the goodwill of the universe isn’t worth seven hours of backbreaking labor—“

“Lance, for the last four of those hours you’ve been reprogramming the alarm system’s sound to play Everytime We Touch instead of beeping. We don’t even have an alarm system, Lance.”

“It was Cascada or Daddy Yankee, and this way it’s PG.”

Pidge took a breath, shoved her fingers under her glasses (What was the point of those things? You didn’t actually need them to see, faker) to pinch the bridge of her nose. Muttered something under her breath and put her hands up, “Fine. Go ahead. I’m not the one that’s going to be on cleaning duty for the next couple of weeks.”

He’d barely opened his mouth to argue.

She walked back to her station.

Slumping in his seat, Lance lazily dragged his finger over the holo-screen. Galaxy after galaxy after black hole and it occurred to him that there was a time he’d’ve killed for the chance to do this. To study _space_ with _alien technology_ while _in space_ in an _alien castle space ship._ It was obviously still pretty fucking cool, he would still brag about it if when he got back to Earth.

But, holy _crow_ was it boring.

If it was really so important, everybody should be working on it. So far it was only the three of them. Allura and Coran were fixing up some old Altean suits for the paladins to wear on diplomatic missions, so, fine, they could be ‘excused’. And nobody that valued their ribs intact was about to make Shiro do anything, not after yesterday’s incident.

(There was goo; there was bloodshed; they had to evacuate the kitchen because of the… it wasn’t pretty, alright?)

But Keith for sure had no excuse to not be here. He was training, something he could do any other day, something he did do every other day. Why didn’t Coran drag _him_ in here, and make _him_ waste seven of _his_ precious hours?

Sure, he was doing something ‘productive’ that could possibly have been ‘helpful in combat’ but… but Lance would be doing the same thing if he wasn’t here! Probably.

Lance would even dare to say they had been getting along fine up to that point. He’d joined in on some aforementioned training sessions himself (he _didn’t_ get his ass handed to him), they’d talked a bit, _bantered_ even.

Keith had _laughed_ at one point. Lance didn’t even think it was possible for Keith to smile, let alone—and a cute laugh too—

~~He didn’t look totally awful. His eyes got bright, and his cheeks were this amazing pink.~~

_Wait_ , he suddenly snapped his head up, mouth going dry, _what the fu—_

A whoop snapped him back, thank _God_. “Got it! Got it, got it, got it. Galran fleet near that one planet in the Capernum galaxy that turned all our right thumbs blue for a week, remember?” Hunk pointed at a large purple spot, grin splitting his face, “Yeah, right there. The signals it’s sending aren’t comms like all the others, they’re encrypted info chunks, the kind we can only access when on the ship.”

Lance took a breathe of sweet, sweet no-more-work relief. “Coran can still check the usage logs, dumbass.”

Fuck, she’s right.

Pidge adjusted her (fake) glasses, scanning over the screen, then announced, “Yup, it all checks out. Lance, announce it?”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted and marched over to the intercom, pressing the button on the microphone.

Cascada was a goddess, honestly, but no techno sounded good over speakers. Especially on full volume. Lance realized he must have hooked it to the intercom not the—

They didn’t even have an alarm system.

He immediately went to cover his ears, taking his finger off. The music stopped mid _touch_. Hunk had fallen off his chair, entire head hidden by his arms. Pidge growled, unhooking her nails from her scalp.

Lance gulped. “I’ll go…ah…tell everybody. Right now.”

✩★

It took every ounce of Lance’s strength to not laugh at the fact that Shiro was still a vibrant shade of purple. It was only his hair and most of the right half of his body, but he’d thought after the eighth shower it would have faded, even a little bit.

“Lookin’ good, Shi—“

“Save it,” he rubbed at his face with both hands, making it obvious he had been napping, probably forced by Pidge since she found him doing pull-ups at three am in his doorway. “What’s going on?”

He snickered for a second, “Hunk got the coordinates for the Galra fleet—“

“Already getting dressed,” and he shut the door.

✩★

His shoulder made a loud pop and Lance winced, windmilling it around. Allura had practically ripped it out of the socket trying to get more information out of him, even though she could’ve just gone over and asked Hunk, y’know, the _engineer_ that _found it in the first place_. But whatever.

That left him with Keith.

Again, they weren’t on bad terms at the moment. It wasn’t uncommon to find them sitting in the control room while everybody else was asleep, talking for hours on end. About earth, the stars, their team members, latest missions. Lance knew he could do the same thing with Hunk, and he had on occasion, but with Keith…

 _Dios_ , with Keith.

It was different.

The kind of different that could make him think whatever it is he had thought while zoning out earlier. He pushed that thought away. Minds go weird placed when you’re bored.

He shook himself out and cleared his throat, pushing the button for the door to open. He took one jaunty step forward, preparing a hilarious anecdote sure to get an interesting conversation going before he froze. Jaw, meet the floor. You two will be well acquainted for the next few minutes.

Keith kicked off the wall and back flipped over the android in a graceful arc, landing on his side. That didn’t seem to stop the fact that he was back on his feet before the simulation’s spear buried into metal.

Keith made to stab through it, but it seemed to sense that, side stepping and ripping it’s weapon out, swinging it back towards him. He clumsily dodged, the tip catching him in the shoulder. He grunted as the electricity coursed down his arm. The next time he was ready, doing a kind of twirl away from the spear before slicing the android clean in half, back facing Lance.

It really was a wonder he still hadn’t been spotted.

Sweat stuck Keith’s shirt to his back, making it impossible to _not_ look at each individual muscle as he shifted into a standing position, tucking a hair that had escaped his ponytail—repeat, _ponytail_ —behind his ear. Lance couldn’t breathe suddenly, he didn’t know.

The foot he had had suspended in the air dropped.

Keith twitched and slowly turned.

Lance quickly scrambled to casually lean against in the doorway. He had his elbow awkwardly framing his head at first, then switched so he had his arms crossed. “’Sup?”

Read: “ _I totally wasn’t creeping on you and fawning over your stupid ponytail.”_

Keith rose an eyebrow, “How long have you been standing there?”

“Pft, just,” he crossed one leg over the other, than stood up straight, uncrossing, “I just got here.”

The other eyebrow ascended.

“Pidge sent me. Hunk got the coordinates for Operation Snatch the Map from the Space Furries.”

“I don’t think any of us agreed to that name,” Keith scoffed, clicking away his bayard. He walked toward his jacket near where Lance was standing, moving it out of the way and putting it back in those little fanny packs of his (Why fanny packs? Why two? What can you possibly fit in there?).

Lance waved a hand, “Details, details. You guys just don’t have any imagination.”

“Imagination?” He stood, hands on his hips, “Name one operation of yours that hasn’t included the phrase ‘Space Furries’.”

“I dare you to deny that that is exactly what the Galra are, mullet.”

“I don’t know what furries are and,” he held up a finger when Lance opened his mouth, “would like to keep it that way.”

“You’re no fun.”

Keith rolled his eyes, brushing another strand of hair away, “How come you didn’t just use the comm system?”

It took ever ounce of willpower in his body to not say, _“I wanted to see your pretty face.”_ Obviously a compulsive product of his constant flirting with everything, not…

Just not.

“The system’s out of commission for a bit. Slight technical difficulties.”

“Ah,” Keith nodded, sliding his hands in his back pockets and almost smirked, “What did you do?”

Lance gasped, “How dare you assume I had anything to do with it? The _nerve_ —the—the _audacity_ \--” The side of his mouth twitched and Lance’s heart hammered so hard against his ribcage it almost hurt, “I accidentally reprogrammed it to play Everytime We Touch, and I didn’t have time to put it back.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed at him, “That was what that noise was. I thought the training sequence had malfunctioned.”

“Cascada isn’t _noise_ —“ he started, but shut his mouth. Keith finally just pulled his hair out of the red band, shaking it out before gathering it back up. _Hodeme, por favor_.

It’s the hair. Definitely the hair. He’s always had a thing for dark hair.

“So we’ve got a mission?”

Lance snapped out of his trance. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. We should probably—“

“Want to spar for a bit before going back?” This wasn’t new or surprising. They sparred together almost daily. Keith’s face was unreadable.

 _No_ , said his smart mouth.

“Sure,” said his actual mouth. Was it his imagination, or did Keith look almost relieved? “Two outta three?”

“Not enough time. Shiro would probably hunt us down.”

Lance hummed his affirmation, shucking off his sweater. “Winner takes all then.

“Just so you know,” he started, striding towards the center off the room, “it’s kind of unfair, since you’ve been training all this time. You’re probably pretty tired, so don’t feel bad when I destroy you.” He turned on his heel, startled to find Keith right there. How the hell did he walk so quietly?

He rolled his eyes again, arranging his legs into a fighting stance and putting his hands up, “Whatever you say, Lance.”

Lance gulped minutely and mirrored him, albeit a bit more sloppily. They took a second, staring at each other, and Lance thought, _Nobody should be that pretty with such visible pit stains,_ before Keith swung. The first couple of times, that actually stunted Lance, immediately giving Keith the upper hand.

Now, however, he knew what to do. He took a step back, allowing Keith’s own momentum to drive him forward before using the back of his arm to push Keith’s away, twisting his own hand around his to pull him forward. Keith caught up and whirled around so that Lance was practically hugging him, elbowing down hard.

Lance let go, shaking out his hand and Keith landed the first punch to his side. He made a noise but fell with it, crouching to swipe his legs out from under him. It bought Lance a couple of seconds before Keith stood back up, allowing him to get into position for a roundhouse kick.

He was halfway through it when Keith grabbed his calf and yanked. Lance felt the air knock out of him when his back hit the floor. Keith was suddenly pinning both hands over his head, knees trapping his thighs.

Their chests almost touched from all the panting. Lance could feel his blood rushing through his head, face burning. Could Keith feel his pulse through his wrists?

Did he have _purple_ eyes? Lance’d always thought they were just really dark brown or blue, like his, but no. No they were _violet_. Violet under long black lashes, black hair, back in his face even after redoing the ponytail, brushing Lance’s forehead.

Why was his mouth so dry?

“You give?” He breathed ~~and Lance wanted to die right then, Keith’s breath on his lips~~.

 _God, yes_.

Lance’s gaze dropped to his lips almost on their own accord and he realized he could just—

Look up, sneer, “You wish, mullet,” and kneed up. He wasn’t about to hit Keith _there_ —whatever the relationship they had, Lance wasn’t about to ruin it—but he did get him right above, under his stomach. Keith’s hold loosened and Lance sprang into action, flipping them over so he had Keith under him, one hand holding both wrists, the other loosely pressing into his hip.

This left his legs as the only thing suspending him above Keith, and accounting that they were longer than his, their chests _were_ touching now. Lance grinned, “You give?”

Keith huffed. The air crackled.

Lance was once again made aware of the situation they were in. Of Keith’s flushed cheeks and heavy breathing and slightly chapped lips just begging—

“Lance…” said lips move, slowly, tongue darting out. Their eyes met, both snapping back up.

A deafening shout killed whatever was happening, to say the least. Lance scrambled off Keith, kneeling and covering his ears. He could see Keith doing the same.

Through it all, he heard the synth pop beat accompanying the ironic song currently shattering his eardrums. It stopped like it started, and Lance worked out Allura or Coran had pressed it without warning.

“Jesus fuck,” he muttered, rubbing at his temples.

Keith made something akin to a growl, pointing at Lance, “If you don’t get that shit fixed, I’m running you through with my sword.”

“Kinky,” Lance yawned, standing and cracking his back, “but I’ll pass.” When he opened his eyes, Keith was glaring at him. Or he assumed it was a glare, because of the way he was doing it. He remembered what had _just_ literally _five_ _seconds_ ago transpired and felt his cheeks go red. He attempted a smile and held out his arm, “Need a hand?”

Keith’s gaze flickered from his face to his hand then took it, standing up in one motion. He held on for a beat longer than necessary and let go.

✩★

“Lance, kindly shut up.”

Lance groaned, leaning back in his seat. They had used two pods to stealthily make it through the fleet. Pidge, Lance, and Keith were currently attached to the bottom of their target, waiting for Shiro and Hunk to give the signal for them to come in. Since they were the ones most experienced in engineering, they went in first to take apart the alarm and door lock systems, making sure their planned exits were working and secure.

This left the other three to wait.

And wait. “But _Pidge_ ,” he turned to look back at her, “it’s been _fifteen minutes._ ”

“You honestly have the attention span of a small lizard, don’t you?” Keith said.

“Hey!” Lance whirled, “Say that to my face, Billy Ray!”

Keith put his entire hand on Lance’s face, pushing him away, “Don’t start. This is already annoying as it is.”

Lance batted him away and wagged his finger, “Aha! So you admit it!”

“I never denied—“

The comms crackled, Shiro’s voice stern, “Pidge, please smack them for me.”

She did. Lance put his helmet on, activating the full coverage mode, sticking his tongue out.

“Alright, we’re almost there, start scaling towards the drop point.”

They all accepted and made sure everybody was ready before slowly getting into position next to the other pod. Keith unlocked the doors, allowing Pidge to shoot her grappling hook unto the opening Shiro had carved through the hangar and pulling it open. Lance went in first, pulling them both after him.

After closing the hatch, Hunk and Shiro jogged in, waving as if they weren’t the only other ones here. “Everything good?”

Lance feigned a glance back through the opening, “Did I leave it on parked?”

Needless to say, nobody laughed at his quality humor.

Hunk and Lance took front and end with their blasters, in that order. Lance wanted to talk to pass the time, but nobody looked up for it. Pidge had her computer on her palm, preparing the download program. Shiro stepped in front of him and put a hand out, peeking through the hallway before opening the mainframe door open and escorting everybody inside. He kept watch (Lance almost made a joke about him blending in with the Galra; he did not) while they plugged in all the various wires Pidge instructed them to do. The giant screen lit up blue, asking for passwords and Pidge cracked her knuckles, a devious smile on her face, "So you think you're tough, huh?"

"Want us to give you two a minute or...?" Hunk said, gesturing towards the hallway. She ignored him as her fingers started flying over the keys.

The steady click clack was the only sound for a while before, "Yes!"

 _Access Granted_ flashes purple before a bar at one percent filled up the screen. Lance whooped cheerfully and Hunk shushed him. Lance whooped quietly.

"How long is this gonna take, Pidge?" Keith asked, peering at her computer.

She thought for a minute before estimating, "Five, ten minutes. Twenty if we want to back it up." He nodded and looked up, meeting Lance's stare. He looked away.

They still hadn't talked about what had happened in the training room earlier. Something had happened, as much as Lance didn't want to admit it. Or maybe he was the only one who felt it. So  _he_ obviously wasn't about to start that conversation.

He risked a glance up. Keith's profile was lit by the screen, washing his pale skin blue. 

He really didn't have a Smurf kink. But...

There was a noise from outside, a warning, and a metallic thump. Shiro dragged an unconscious soldier inside and unnecessarily said, "So we maybe need to leave."

_Forty-seven percent._

Pidge frowned and said, "I could try and get a wireless connection so it keeps downloading while we're on the ship. The second we step off though, it'll stop."

"Do that. Keith, Hunk come out here with me." Keith got to his feet, materializing his sword with a swipe.  _Showoff_ , thought Lance. Hunk started a tiny salute at them, but stopped. Motioned at his mouth than pointed at Lance with a confused expression. He noticed he was gaping and quickly shut his mouth.

Pidge took note of this and tucked this bit of information in her mental blackmail folder.

Lance crouched next to her and watched her close all other windows so the process could finish faster, leaving only the storage file and wiring programs open. He watched bits of blue txt fly by the screen, an arrow, and his head almost hurt from how fast everything was happening. 

_Sixty-two percent._

She yanked the wires out, throwing them over to Lance as she went. The familiar sound of Hunk's bayard boomed ad crashed. Running footsteps came from either side of the corridor and Lance summoned his shield, "I'll cover you. We need to go."

"Okay, okay, okay," she said rapidly and hugged the computer to her chest, calling up her own shield.

They burst out just as Keith hit the last soldier with the butt of his sword. Fallen Galra were scattered all around and Shiro commandeered them through the mess, ordering Hunk on Pidge's other side.

 _Seventy-nine percent_.

There were more robots. Lance could hear their booming steps and he started walking backwards alongside Hunk to pick them off,  _boom, boom, boom._ Someone had hit the alarms, but thanks to Shiro and Hunk, there was no actual noise. Only the lights of the hallways blinking on and off, so there was practically no difference.

_Eighty-four percent._

When the actual soldiers, the flesh and blood aliens started coming in, the best they could do without killing actual people was shoot up at a protruding beacon and let it fall.

The hangar was empty and Shiro slammed the button for the entire thing to open after everybody activated their helmets because, hey, everybody knew they were there anyway. He made to stay but Keith shoved him through, saying, "I'll stay with Pidge, everybody else, go in." 

Shiro frowned. Hunk shoved him down, almost reluctantly, "No time. Keith is smart, Pidge is smart, those bastards got nothing on us. Let's go, go, go."

They clambered into their pod. Lance wanted to stay too, but he knew it was a bigger help to just turn on the pod and get it ready for departure. He slid inside and detached from the ship's hull, angling the pod to be hovering near the exit

 _Ninety-five percent_.

Pidge was bouncing from foot to foot, glancing at the hangar doors. Keith did the same and both froze. They had melded the metal together in the quickest way possibly, and it was evident in the way the Galra were able to break it open after only a couple of jabs.

_Ninety-seven percent._

Keith made to cover Pidge but she put the computer in her backpack and side stepped him, whipping her bayard at the soldiers, electrocuting the front line.

_Ninety-eight percent._

Now Keith leapt into action, using the blunt of his sword as more of a bat, knocking anybody he could down. The hangar doors were starting to shut. Nobody had pushed the button, so Lance assumed it was done from the main control room.

_Ninety-nine percent._

Pidge hit a soldier sneaking up on Keith's blind spot. Just as Keith finished with the dozen in front of him, another wave started trickling through the crack in the door. 

_One hundred percent._

Then everything went slow. He saw Keith noticing the shutting doors, the soldiers, Pidge.

He saw the moment it all clicked.

Keith swiped a Galra away from him and whirled around. Lance's eyes widened. He never turned his back on an adversary.

His name ripped out of Lance's throat on it's own accord. 

Pidge flew through the sliver of space, slamming into the pod. Lance scrambled to open it, pulling her inside.

He looked up. Keith was staring at him, breathing hard, a Galra hand just clamping on his arm. His mouth moved.

And the doors shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✩★ Comments and Kudos are Appreciated ✩★
> 
> Hit me up, let's talk  
> Twitter: [@hivekyu](https://twitter.com/hivekyu)  
> Tumblr: [@paladon-t](http://paladon-t.tumblr.com/)


	2. General Chaos Ensues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith and lance freak out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2016 is the year of realizing things, guys.
> 
> I can't believe so many people like this??? I'm?? Overwhelmed? Thank you all so much, I'm just a limp asparagus.
> 
> Hover the mouse over words for translations. For those on mobile, they're @ the bottom. Au revoir

**keith**

Apparently, Keith knocked out approximately forty-seven Galra soldiers in the span of five minutes. He would’ve been able to take more of those motherfuckers down with him if they hadn’t finally come to their senses and just completely surrounded him, three yanking his bayard out of his hands, two restraining his arms behind his back.

They forced him to his knees, shouting for handcuffs. He summoned his shield to knock them away, and it worked for a second until it was ripped off the sleeve of his suit. Dammit. Dammit, dammit,  _dammit_.

The handcuffs were considerably tighter than they were supposed to be, that’s for fucking sure. Cold metal was digging into his wrists, and there was no space between the locks, so his arms were practically glued together. He strained for a second, determining that there was absolutely no way to fit his body through the space to get his hands in front of him.

One of the soldiers nudged him with their foot.

“So… what do we do with him?”

“Throw him out?”

_Yeah. Do that. Smart idea._

There was a thump like Pidge hitting the back of their heads an hour ago. God, he hoped they all got through the wormhole.

“No, you goop for brains. We take him to Commander Rigus, get promotions for capturing a paladin, and never have to work again. Gred, Klyk, y’think you can drag him over?”

He assumed they nodded or whatever aliens did because he was seized by the shoulders, pulled to his feet. The ones he could see looked tense, like they were waiting for him to bring out some hidden weapon he had hidden in his armor.

He kept his head up, glaring at any direction he could manage. If he was going down, he was doing down angry.

They escorted him down the hallway, strewn with the droids they’d destroyed earlier. The rubble Hunk and Lance had created.

There was also the problem that the Galra would probably already have a trap set, with him as the bait.

By now, Pidge or Hunk had probably realized that too. But they’d come back. Of course they’d come back. They were smart, but coupled with the fact that they were all too damn selfless for their own goods, they’d make up some bat shit crazy plan to break back in.

 _Stupidly selfless,_ scoffed a voice at the back of his head,  _that’s rich, coming from you._

_And what makes you think they’re even coming back?_

They were his team. Forget team, they were his friends. Of course…

They would come back.

He stumbled on the feet of the soldier behind him.

They made it to two giant purple double doors. Two of the Galra came forward to open them.

Keith was shoved through.

A soldier was already talking to who Keith assumed was Commander Rigus, since he looked like every other high-ranking Galra he’d ever seen. The soldier faltered when he saw him, causing the commander to turn.

God, Keith hated Galra eyes. You could never tell where they were actually looking, and the glowing yellow was really damn unsettling.

The soldiers surrounding him dropped to their knees, fist on their hearts (or where he assumed their hearts were), chanting “ _Vrepit sa._ ”

A soldier directly in front of him stood up, fist still in place, “Commander, we captured one of the paladins.”

The commander rumbled, “Yes, this is evident, Ayra. I assume he is the reason for our malfunction?”

“Correct, sir.”

He nodded and threw over his shoulder, “Request an audience with Emperor Zarkon and begin a system reboot. Find out what they got from the computer and get rid of it.”

 _Good luck with that,_ Keith thought, _Pidge encrypted the download._

“Ayra, Gred,” he gestured vaguely in their direction, “take him to the cellblock. The rest of you search the ship for any other paladins.” Ayra looked like he wanted to ask something, but the commander cut him off, “And once you’re done there, you can be in charge of fixing the damage done to the hangar.

“Do not expect anything for a mediocre task. If the paladin serves his purpose, you will be rewarded later on. Dismissed.”

The group left, grumbling.

 ★

The cellblock was really fucking depressing. It was the same purple as the rest of the ship, but impossibly darker, like it sucked any trace of illumination into the brick. The only source of any light were glowing orbs imbedded into the ceiling.

Keith couldn’t actually see any cells until one of the soldiers (Ged?) put his hand on an irregularity on the brick. The wall phased away and Keith was pushed inside, stumbling into the center of the room. Jesus _Christ_ , it was cold.

They hadn’t even taken his handcuffs off.

He stood there for a second, staring at the darkness all around him. The weight of the situation crashed on him.

He was in a jail cell. Captured. By Galra.

 _Alone_.

Keith was used to being alone. He lived in the desert by himself for a year. But after months of being with the other paladins and having people like that around him, that cared, he was spoiled.

His legs started shaking and he felt around until he stopped in a corner, letting himself slide down into a sitting position. His heart rate was skyrocketing and his breathing was going way to fast.

He held his breathe for a couple of seconds before letting go, closing his eyes. It made no difference.

Blood was pumping so fast through his heart that everything was hot, but the actual cold of the room still bit into his suit. Mind over matter, mind over matter.

He tried summoning the fire in his chest when he commandeered Red. Drinking Hunk’s artificial hot chocolate after a long training session. Yesterday, sparring with Lance, chest to chest, blood rushing to his face.

His pulse spiked.

Great. That wasn’t helping. Lance’s face had been inches away. Their noses had brushed. Keith almost did it, leaned down, pressed that stupid mouth against his.

He was going to die, and no one would ever know how terrified he was of Lance. Because that was what it was right? That swirling pressure against his ribs, the lightness in his head. It was all because of the fear he had for it.

 _It_ , again, being Lance.

He was terrified of the loud laughter and annoying jokes and constant touching. He was terrified of weak smiles after especially hard missions and shaky voices after long nights of talking about Earth and terribly off-key singing. He was terrified of dark blue eyes and messy hair and bright smiles and that small smattering of freckles against his nose and—

He was so, so scared.

And nobody would ever know.

His heart didn’t slow.

**✩**

**lance**

“I’m getting him back,” Lance ripped off his helmet, not even caring about how messy his hair must look, “Allura, open up the wormhole.”

Her voice broke, “Lance—“

Shiro planted himself in front of Lance, hands on both his shoulders, “Lance, stop. Going back right now would just get us all captured, and that’s not helping anyone.”

Lance pulled away, “Does it look like I fucking care?! They could have killed him by now, Shiro—“

“They,” Pidge was still pale from being flung through space, shakily taking her glasses off, “they wouldn’t kill him. He’s a hostage. They’ll interrogate him for information and bait us with his location.”

“Oh yeah,” he barked out a laugh, sounding crazy even to him, “yeah that makes me feel _so much better_. _Lo pueden estar_ freaking _torturando, pero no importa! Va estar bien_ _!_ ”

Hunk, having hung around Lance for enough time to be practically fluent in Spanish, dried his eyes with his forearm and said, “W—we do care.”

A horrible feeling was clawing it’s way up his throat, seizing his vocal chords, twisting them so he couldn’t—couldn’t—

He whirled and started striding over to his room, using the full expanse of his legs to get there. A sob forced it’s way through his mouth and he quickly clapped both hands over it to stop anymore. They came away wet.

The second he got there he ripped of his chest plate, followed by his arms. He almost tore the body suit trying to het out of it, leaving the bunched up material hanging at his waist.

He carded his fingers through his hair, sticking it up, falling back on his bed.

Hunk came in, without even knocking. He didn’t even say hi, just plopped himself down next to him. He poked Lance’s side, “Dude, are you okay?”

Lance scoffed, “Yeah. Sure. I’m just _dandy_.”

“How do you think we feel? Keith is our friend too.”

 _Yeah, but isn’t_ just _my friend._ Lance thought.

Hunk’s eyes widened a fraction.

_Fuck, did I say that out loud?_

“Fuck, did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah,” he groaned, “and you’re lucky we’re all really sad right now, or I’d be telling Pidge to collect my money.”

“Money?”

“We’ve known for a long time, dude.” _Known? Known what?_ “Anyway,” he stood up, “I just came to tell you to take a shower and calm down a bit. Pidge is already working on tagging a GPS signal on the fleet,” he patted Lance’s back and stuck his tongue out, wiping his hand off, “Seriously on that shower though.”

Lance gasped, “You’re sweaty too! Sweatier, if not!”

“I don’t sweat, I glow.” Hunk said and walked right out.

He called after him, “Wait, what do you mean known?! Known what?!”

✩

Later, when he was patting up a shampoo mohawk in the shower, Lance realized.

” _Mierrda_.” 

 ✩

_"You’re not actually naming the star Shakira.”_

_Lance adjusted his arms to hold his head better, “Shakira is a star, therefore it’s a double entendre.”_

_They were laying in a pile of pillows and carpets in the control room, right in front of the huge windows. They were pointing out constellations, new patterns. Lance was fully on his back, Keith sitting cross-legged against the console. Naming the stars was a usual activity, among other things._

_Keith rolled his eyes, “Whatever you say, Lance.”_

_“Uh,” Lance squinted at him, “are you suggesting that Shakira is_ not _a goddess in our modern day and age?”_

 _He shrugged,_ _“She’s not my_ favorite.”

_Lance hissed, frantically rolling away and crossing himself, “Blocked, deleted, unfollowed—“_

_Keith laughed. His cheeks pushed up into dimples and his nose scrunched up. He had one of those full body laughs where his shoulders and back moved with each breath_ _. Lance had the thought of wanting to bottle it up and listen to it on loop. Shakira, move over, Keith’s laugh is on Lance’s number one Top Hits list._

_Wait what?_

_“Fine, fine, we’ll name it after some one from your shitty emo bands. Do you prefer Brendon or Gerard?”_

_Keith whirled, “I don’t listen to emo bands!”_

_“I’ve seen your iTunes.”_

_“I just haven’t deleted them yet.”_

_“Death of a Bachelor came out last month.”_

_Keith froze mid sentence and rose an eyebrow, “How would you know?”_

_Fuck. “Er—you see—my little sister, Isa—“_

_The side of Keith’s mouth twitched, giving him away. Lance threw his arm over his face dramatically. “Fine, now you know my tragic secret. We’ll name it Brendon.”_

_“No, no,” Keith faced the window again, “name it Shakira. I know you’ll be complaining about it later if we don’t.”_

_And damn if Lance couldn’t deny it._

_Later, Keith fell asleep, curled up beside Lance with a blanket hastily tucked around him. His hands were loose fists at his chest. Lance reached over and brushed hair off his face, noticing a small white scar above his left eyebrow. He had the thought of kissing it and didn’t register until later, while he drifted off, that he had._

✩

He had barely tugged his shirt on when he ran into the control room, “Hunk, what the hell do you mean kn—“ Everybody turned to him. Pidge was even paler before, Hunk’s arm around her. Lance chuckled nervously, “What’s up, guys?”

Shiro cleared his throat, eyes strangely bloodshot, “The fleet is gone. We can’t find Keith.”

★

**keith**

The door opening banged him awake. Keith blinked groggily, trying his best to clear the gunk out of his eyes with his shoulders. A soldier marched in and Keith used the wall to stand up.

He reached over and grabbed Keith by the arm, dragging him out of the room. “Where are you taking me,” Keith growled in the strongest voice he could manage. “Where are you taking me?”

“I can’t tell you, paladin. We all have jobs.”

 _Kiss my ass_ , Keith thought.

“Sure,” Keith said.

They went back through the big purple doors, and the intimidating quality of yesterday had lost it’s novelty. He cracked his neck, then back minutely. Sleeping on the floor without a pillow or blanket really is a pain.

The soldier tensed, fingers digging into Keith’s armor. He was about to say something when a raspy voice said, “Oh, the red one. This certainly will be a challenge, won’t it?”

Keith looked up.

A hooded druid stood next to Commander Rigus, jagged smile on her face. He took a millimeter step backwards.

“I am Haggar. I’ve been told you are…” she glided forward, seizing his chin with a cold hand, “difficult. But we’ll fix that right up, shall we?”

_Go to hell._

He was backhanded across the room, slamming into the wall opposite. He felt something in his pelvis pop. His side was aching and where she’d slapped him it was burning.

She suddenly stood over him, and he heard it, slithering over his skull.

_Clearly, we have work to do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> "They could be freaking torturing him, but that doesn't matter! It's all good!"  
> "Shit."
> 
> Keith's canonical worst fear is feelings lmao slaughter me please
> 
> I'm horrible pls don't kill me for this
> 
> I love talking and attention! Give me both at any of these  
> Twitter: [@hivekyu](https://twitter.com/hivekyu)  
> Tumblr: [@paladon-t](http://paladon-t.tumblr.com/)


	3. It's The Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ever watch season three of the walking dead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, hover over words for translations, and all that good jazz. Written translations @ the end chapter notes for those on mobile
> 
> I cannot pace myself. I'm _sorry._
> 
> yes, I changed the title, why u ask, because I didn't like it all that much and this one is more accurate :^))) don't h8 me pls

**lance**

Somebody was softly pushing at Lance’s shoulder. His first reaction was to swat them away, but the situation forced him to just flip his head around and make a loud grunt, “Who, what, and why?”

Allura crouched into view, forehead bunched up. “Allura, go to your room, you need to sleep.”

He blinked.

Vaguely, his mind informed him that he had passed out on the star map. He sat up, his cheek making a faint noise as it unstuck from the metal. Allura stood straight, crossing her arms.

“You need to go to sleep, Lance.”

“Nah,” he stuttered out a yawn, rolling his shoulders until he heard a satisfying crack from his neck, “nah, just… needa keep looking. A little bit longer.”

She pursed her lips and glanced at the clock on the screen. They’d adjusted them to have both the Altean time and Earthen. It was 3:18 am. She shook her head, “I might not know much yet about the human body, but evidence from the past shows that you need rest just as much as Alteans do.”

Lance stifled down another yawn, “M’fine. I’ve gone through an entire week running on just coffee and—“ He gave a high yelp as Allura suddenly threw him over her shoulder.

He’d had experience with being carried like this before. Hunk had done it one day when he’d been about to throw down with this other dude at the garrison that made fun of Pidge. That time he’d been able to pound on Hunk’s back to try and get him off, but he wasn’t about to do that to Allura because a) she was a girl and he was raised _right_ , dammit, and b) she would probably judo flip him on his head.

“Allura, c’mon,” he tried shimmying out of the grip she had on his legs, “ _please_.”

“Everybody else went to sleep. You won’t be able to make any progress without proper brain function.”

“But—“

“We’re going to find Keith, Lance,” she said, quieter, and he looked behind him to see her glancing back, “but hurting yourself in the process isn’t going to help anyone.”

**★**

**keith**

Keith made one last attempt at wrenching his himself out of the restraints. His shoulder popped. He hissed and stopped, letting himself go limp.

The druid (she was called something like Beggar; Keith blanked out on it) had picked him up off the floor and slammed him into the wall, knocking him unconscious (hence the blanking out). When he woke up, a soldier was snapping a cylinder-shaped cuff on his left wrist, the other already covered.

He made to swing on instinct but something was holding him back. Ropes of purple lightning came from curved metal pillars on either side, holding his wrists suspended where the cuffs were. Keith fucking hated not being able to use his hands.

“Sorry, kid,” He knew the voice, couldn’t bring up the name, “it ain’t my call.” He walked out, muttering as he closed the door, “You’re really in it now.”

★

It wasn’t a cell. At least, not like the one Keith had stayed in before. Everything was still that same nebulous brick, practically rolling the dryness of the ship into him. The room was bigger and there was a door two or three yards in front of him. If he threw himself back hard enough, his legs hit the wall behind, so his positioning wasn’t really in the middle of the room.

Voices started coming down the hall and Keith snapped to attention, craning his neck to look through the window. His hair fell in his eyes. “… information. We need him alive, Haggar.”

“This is not my first time, Rigus,” Haggar rasped and he could hear the razor sharp smile in her tone, “his heart will continue beating, that is my only guarantee.”

The commander grunted, “I don’t care. Just get it done.

“ _Vrepit sa_ ” and Keith saw her nod. He turned to stare at the wall in front of him.

_Click, creak, slam._

There were no footsteps. She floated right in front of him, the hood shadowing her features except for a pointed chin and a hollow smile.

_Paladin. We meet again._

He grit his teeth, spit, “Stop that.”

She sneered, “I thought you to be one of the more brutal ones.”

He didn’t respond.

Haggar cackled low, circling him, once, twice, before abruptly stopping and reaching for the shoulder that had popped earlier.

They’d gotten rid of his clothes, he realized. Her fingers dug into his skin through the prison uniform and he felt the nerves there spider web into his stomach, threatening vile into his throat. _Where the hell did they put them?_

“They had to make sure you had no hidden weapons, after the show you caused in the hangar,” she let go, “entertaining, I must say. You fight like a Galra.”

He pulled as far back away from her as he could.

“Explain to me, Keith Kogane,” she pronounced his last name right, and this was the first time in his life it irked him more than when it was mispronounced, “why it is you and your other little paladins were here? Not just for the show, I am presuming?”

“I don’t know,” he said, in a split second tactic to run his mouth as much as he could, just to keep his mind clear (basically: be Lance), “I’ve been told by some I have a flair for the theatrical.”

_Keith landed the flip on his feet with enough time to parry Lance’s stab. His eyes widened a fraction, quickly rolling them before he scoffed, “Show off.”_

The hood fell slightly and Keith recoiled. Bright acid, boiling, glowing yellow. Her hand shot out, a viper biting back down at his flesh.

There was a definite crack this time. Keith stifled a scream, slamming his teeth down on his bottom lip. There was a crack, a snap, a break, a crumble. His vision went white, finally letting a loose sob escape. There was a burning—no, no a _freezing_. So cold, so incredibly—

She took a silent step back. Keith was shaking, violently, and he couldn’t make himself stop. The pressure of his body weight got him feeling like his muscles were pulling apart, string cheese, strand by strand.

He punched down a whimper.

“Your shoulder,” she said, as if explaining the plot of a book she’d read, “is now the consistency of stardust. Nonexistent, practically. I understand that perhaps that first question did not give you leeway for a good answer, so I will broaden the spectrum for you.

“Give me information on your paladins. I want the location of your base, your most frequent stops, and details on each member of your team. They will fly you back to Earth if they find what you’ve given me useful.”

Fly him back?

To Earth?

If he didn’t feel like absolute shit, he would have laughed. What the hell was there back on Earth for him? They probably hadn’t even noticed he was gone yet.

He set his jaw, tipped his chin up, “Do your worst, asshole.”

She gave a low chuckle, and Keith had fucked up, “If this is your request,” her hand twitched, barely even moved, and Keith felt one of his ribs snap, “then I will certainly do my best to fulfill it.”

Her hand swept the air and his entire body convulsed in that direction, blood rushing in every direction. It deafened him.

**✩**

**lance**

Lance finally wrestled his shirt off. He threw it in his corner of dirty clothes and flopped on the bed. After a second on his stomach he flipped on his back, fixing on a point on the ceiling. He frowned. The fact that he didn’t have stars in his room anymore was kind of sad.

Like, yeah he could just go outside and look at the real stars, for the authenticity and all that crap, but it wasn’t the same, even if his plastic ones _were_ from Target.

He put both arms under his head, adjusted. It’d helped to count them while he fell asleep, the soft glow calming the constant energy bouncing around in his head.

Now wasn’t really the time to not have stars. He was left with a stream of questions, images, fantasies, all one hundred percent _not good_.

_What does this mean for Voltron?_

_Is Keith okay?_

_Is he even still alive?_

_Can we get him back?_

_Why did Lance care so much?_

✩

It was obvious he couldn’t just _not_ care. As much as they fought, Keith was still a member of his team and… well, his friend. Yeah. They were friends right?

But it was weird.

Because Lance knew what he felt like around his friends, and though it was different for everybody, it was _different_ with Keith.

He never got as frustrated with everybody else as he did with Keith, for one. I mean, of course he got _frustrated_ with Pidge and Hunk sometimes, he wasn’t a damn _saint_. Pero with Keith it was this constant itching at the back of his skull, no matter what mood he was in.

Kind of like he was _waiting_ for something to happen and it never did, which made him think it could even be anticipation. For what though?

He grabbed his pillow over his face, groaning. Definitely frustration. Even _thinking_ about Keith’s got him antsy.

“Stupid Keith…” he turned on his side, keeping the pillow to muffle his ears.

_Stupid Keith._

_Stupid, selfless Keith, getting himself captured._

_Stupid, strong Keith, kicking Lance’s ass._

_Stupid, pretty Keith, snorting when he laughs._

_Stupid… gorgeous… catastrophic… perfec_

★

**keith**

The scream echoed back into his ears, so loud he almost didn’t believe it was his. Keith had stopped trying to hold the tears back a long time ago, and he could feel them soak through his shirt. Or was that the blood?

Haggar closed her hands into fists and the twin blades in Keith’s thighs twisted. Before he registered the pain, she pulled them out, letting the wounds flow freely. It ran in rivers down his legs, dripping heavily onto the floor.

He was sure she was keeping him awake somehow. Awake and alive. The shock alone should’ve stopped his heart by now.

The knives disappeared.

She put her arms down, hiding them back in her cloak, and said, “You truly are a stubborn one, aren’t you?”

He didn’t risk saying anything. Last time he had, she’d pulled out a molar.

“But truly,” she smirked, “I am getting bored of this. I suppose I will give you a ‘break’.” He felt one of the snapped bones in his arm shift, grinding against the other half. He whimpered. “And you can’t expect me to work on a project I’ve already finished, correct?” She lazily flapped a hand through the air and Keith seized up.

There was no relief in it. No slow build up, no breath.

More like dropping two magnets on a table and watching them collide in midair. It happened, one loud _snap,_ and he was back together.

It hurt like a mother _fucker_.

He choked on a yelp, wrists burning as he fell back down. The uniform was clean.

“There. What’s the Earthen term for it? A clean slate?” She sniffed and left. Just like that.

Like she’d left him some kind of fucking gift.

Once the door’s closing sound stopped repeating off the walls, he could hear himself. Short, rattling breaths, his toes touching the floor every time he shook.

Tears prickled the back of his eyes, the slimy fist of a sob clogging up his airway. Fuck. Fuck.

His voice was thick, _“Fuck._

_“Shit.”_

✩

**lance**

__"Ten cuidado con el oceano, mi vida,"_ his mama put a hand to her chest, watching the water rolling outside their window, " _sabes que la tienes que respetar, verda?"__

_Lance grinned, dropped a kiss on her head, “ _Si, mama, ya se."_  He headed out, not bothering to close the door since he knew all his brothers and sisters were coming through in a bit._

_He was on his board, in the ocean, looking out for the perfect wave. A giant, foamy white force of nature that knocked him off._

_Hunk grabbed him out of the lake, snorting, “It’s an alien planet; what could possibly be in the water?”_

_A fish brushed Lance’s leg, he thought. Keith raised an eyebrow, shaking his grip, “You okay?”_

_“Yeah,” he smiled and they tumbled on the pile of blankets. He snickered, that cute, snorty little thing that got Lance’s heart_ bump-bumping. _Forehead to forehead. “Why would you do that, Keith?” He pecked his cheek, “You could have escaped.”_

_Keith grinned, running a hand through Lance’s hair, “Maybe I didn’t want to escape.”_

_“We miss you.”_

_“No you don’t,” he pulled Lance back up, pushed their lips together. Lance felt the smile form again, clacking their teeth, “nobody’s cared about me before._

_“What you care about,” fingers dancing down his sides, “is forming Voltron.” He pulled back and Lance’s world was violet. “And you can find a new red paladin, Lance. Nobody’s gonna notice I’m gone on Earth. Who cares?”_

_Lance laughed, felt cold fingers in his waistband, “I care, you idiot. I fucking care.”_

_“No you don’t.”_

_“Yes I do.”_

_Keith weaved their hands together, between them, “Then why didn’t you fucking tell me?”_

_Lance drowned._

✩

He opened his eyes, clutched at the blankets. It was eleven twenty-four am ~~and Lance McClain had a crush~~.

✩

Pidge was the only person at the table, probably because she kept working on her computer even after leaving the control room. She was on it now, one hand on the keyboard, the other absentmindedly shoveling goop in her mouth. She acknowledged him with a muffled grunt. He did the same, plopping down across from her with his own bowl.

Ate slowly.

After a minute or two, Pidge shut the laptop. Turned to face him, palms flat on the table, and took a deep breath.

“Yes, Lance?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

She went to adjust her glasses but they weren’t there, passing it off by rubbing her eye, “It’s been a long day, Lance. Can we just cut the bullshit?”

“There is no bullshit!”

“It’s about Keith, isn’t it?” Quieter.

Lance gulped.

“Hunk told me.”

“He said he wouldn’t!”

Speak of the devil, he rushed in, vest half on, headband loose around his neck, “I heard my name. What’s happening?”

Lance pointed an accusing finger at him, “ _Chismoso!"_

Hunk rolled his eyes, sitting next to Pidge, “I mean, yeah.

“Wait, we’re talking about the same thing, right?” He stopped, the arm he’d been putting through the sleeve stuck, “About Lance’s humongous boner for Keith, I mean.”

“Hunk!”

“Mhmm,” Pidge nodded thoughtfully, “yeah. Figuratively, of course—“

“I don’t have a boner for Keith!” he shrieked, “I’m just kind of freaking out! Plus, even if I did, how could you two know; I don’t even understand what you’re talking about!”

Hunk snapped his headband on, one eyebrow raised, “Wait, what?”

Pidge looked on the verge of a hernia, “You… don’t understand?”

They glanced at each other, then back at him.

And started yelling.

“What about all the flirting?”

“And those stupid ass goo-goo eyes you always throw at him?”

“And the constant _fighting_ , oh my _God_ don’t get me _started_ —“

“ _Right—_ “

Lance shrieked, “What?!”

“You honestly don’t know?” Pidge interrupted, “Because, we knew Keith isn’t all there when it comes to advances, but we thought for sure _you—_ “

“I’ve never flirted with Keith in my life!”

✩

They screamed for a solid seven minutes, I swear to God.

✩

“So it took,” Pidge said, voice level, “our boy Keith getting _kidnapped_ , for you to realize—“ she stopped, folding her hands in front of her mouth.

“I haven’t realized anything! I’m just… I had a dream…” It wasn’t a crush. It was. Not. A. Fucking. Crush. It was the situation; the dream was just a product of the situation. His worry for Keith was completely platonic. He was Lance’s teammate, right? So sue him for being a _little_ bit dramatic.

Pidge looked unimpressed, “A dream? Like a w—“

“A _nightmare_ ,” he said quickly, “about Earth. Nothing about Keith, I just think him being captured triggered it.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, “okay. Alright, sure Lance.”

“I’m being serious!”

★

**keith**

He fell asleep with his head leaning on his own shoulder.

**✩**

**lance**  

Shiro propped one arm up on the chair’s back, “But is there a way to track him with his connection to Red?”

“Possibly,” Allura muttered, expanding the map she’d been looking at. Five dots, the colors of their lions, were congregated in one spot. “the link would be much, much fainter than if it were the lion, obviously, but… it could work if I had some time to meditate and follow the connection.”

“I can make a mean dream tea, Princess,” Coran said enthusiastically, “I’ll get on it right now.”

“Thank you, Coran. Meanwhile,” she turned to them, going soft, “I know this is incredibly hard on us, paladins. But we need to continue our initial plan. Pidge was able to decrypt the map, and we need to begin following the route of targeted planets."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cell trap is sort of like [this](http://www.flixist.com/ul/199322-review-the-incredibles/14-620x.jpg) except it's only the top half. A lá the Incredibles.
> 
> So, like, I've continues watching the Walking Dead after what **ahem** _happened_ and just as I was writing the torture scene for Keith they were torturing Glenn (y'know, Steven Yeun, Keiths _voice actor_ ) in the background of my screen and wow what a good time to be alive hahahaha
> 
> Why did I write the dream like that??? Isn't that how dreams are??????//?
> 
> **Translations:**
> 
> "Be careful with the ocean out there, baby."
> 
> "You know you have to respect it, right?"
> 
> "Yeah, mami, I know."
> 
> I don't know exactly how to translate this into english but, like, a person who wants that gossip
> 
> Drop by, give me a hi  
> Twitter: [@hivekyu](https://twitter.com/hivekyu)  
> Tumblr: [@paladon-t](http://paladon-t.tumblr.com/)


	4. It Gets Uncomfortable After Some Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quick runthrough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** I don't know if it's suicidal, exactly, but just to be safe, there are suicidal thoughts in this chapter.
> 
> This is more a filler than anything. Next chapter too. The one after that, though, will almost 100% not be.

**keith**

_The door slammed open and Keith didn’t have time to register anything before he was right there, hands framing his face._

_“Keith?” His head snapped up, the hands holding him in place. Lance smiled, white against the dark backdrop of the room, “_ Dios, _” he huffed out a laugh, fingers sweeping soft over Keith’s temples, “aren’t looking so hot now, huh, pretty boy? Don’t worry we’re getting you out of here.”_

_Out of— pretty— “Lance?” His voice was hoarse, from screaming or disuse._

_“Stay still for a second,” Pidge muttered, distantly undoing his cuffs. He couldn’t remember her coming into the room._

_Lance’s eyes were a dark, dark navy. The kind of color that looked black on t-shirt you just bought, but after you put it on you realize it’s just a really deep blue and that it ruined the entire outfit. The color of the sky at night. Maybe the ocean was a better comparison, because all Keith really wanted to do was drown in them. “You’re kind of staring,” Lance stage whispered._

_“How did you get here?” Keith said. He was crying. When did he start crying?_

_One of the cuffs popped open and Keith’s arm dropped. Lance caught him, weaving their hands together. Pidge was at his other side, but Keith couldn’t see her._

_Lance brought his hand up, hesitated before kissing along Keith’s knuckles. “I didn’t think you would care,” he took a breath, head falling forward, against Lance’s, “I didn’t think any of you did.”_

_Pidge finally finished and Keith fell forward, legs collapsing immediately. Lance supported him, lowering them both on the ground, Keith grabbing at his jacket to know, to make sure this was real, ~~not even thinking about how they weren’t in their armor~~._

_There was a high noise and the sound of somebody falling. Keith couldn’t look up. Lance was holding him tight, so, so tight. Two more thuds, heavier, the smell of something burning. His grip loosened, “Lance—“_

_It was not tight anymore._

_Lance was a dead weight, falling dully on his side. Keith didn’t see it. Panic was setting in, as if this entire thing wasn’t totally unbelievable in the first place. He inched forward then scrambled back, hands flying over his mouth._

_He saw it._

_A space right in the middle of Lance’s chest. Keith saw it, traces of his spine and ribs, the strings that were his intestines, surrounded in blood from the pool he was now lying in, soaking through Keith’s pants. He felt something shrivel up, a spot as hollow as the hole where Lance’s heart used to be._

_He saw that and didn’t have to look around to know. They cared._

_There was a ball of darkness in Haggar’s palm, “I could kill you,” she taunted._

_He tried to stand up, to do something, anything to get her away, but he tripped up in the blood. It was up to his waist. Hot as hell, the smell of copper, just, everywhere._ Everywhere _._

_Keith drowned_

★

and woke up screaming.

**✩**

**lance**

On the way to his lion, Lance hesitated. His quick route with the zip line had stopped working because of, uh, circumstances (he didn’t think Coran was _serious_ when he said not to swing back and forth), so now he had to go directly to the room where all the other lions were held to access his. Everybody else was gone already, which left Blue and Red alone, side by side.

He glanced at Blue. She sent a wave of invitation, knelt to open her mouth. Lance pat her jaw, “Just… just one second, m’kay? I’m going right now.”

She did the closest thing to a harrumph a giant robotic lion could do, bringing her head back up. It was entirely playful but Lance bumped his shoulder with her leg anyway, “You’re my one and only, girl, you know that.”

**_Damn straight_.**

He touched her foot and walked over to Red, leaning back to fully look at her. She was shorter than Blue, which Lance took note of the second they found her, adding it in to already making fun of Keith for being shorter than him.

 _“It’s only by, like, an_ inch _, Lance.”_

_“Two and half, shorty.”_

“Uh…” He put a hand out then retracted it. If Red was anything like Keith, she didn’t like being touched without knowing someone. “ _Hola_. I’m… I’m pretty sure you know who I am. The name’s Lance.”

Nothing.

He folded his arms, kicking the ground, “You probably know me as the guy Keith is constantly complaining about…” even thinking about Keith talking about him, as negative as it was, got his mouth twitching, “And I want to state, for the record, whatever he’s said is wrong. Probably.”

Nothing.

“We're, like, best friends, actually.”

She was much more banged up than all the other lions. Keith drove like the motherfucking devil, with barely misses and mini heart attacks and literally fucking _tackling_ ships head on. Her right leg looked the most damaged, almost completely silver except for a big patch near the top. Coran meant to repaint it.

But as messy as she appeared, it was still obvious Keith cared for her. He would come in more often than everybody else, to clean her, make sure everything was fine. “I just wanna… if we’re making you worry, I mean…

“We’re getting him back here, alright? Don’t start sending out any signals for a new paladin yet.”

Nothing.

He nodded once. Took a final look at her leg and bounced off towards Blue.

**★**

**keith - _some time later_**

He knew the minute

The door slammed open. Keith didn’t need to look up. He didn’t need time to register who it was before he was right there, hands framing Keith’s face, “Keith?”

Keith still didn’t look but Lance smiled.

“ _Dios_ ,” he huffed out a laugh, fingers sweeping soft over Keith’s temples, “aren’t looking so hot now, huh, pretty boy? Don’t worry, we’re getting you out of here.”

“No you’re not.” His voice was hoarse, from screaming or disuse.

“Stay still for a second,” Pidge muttered, distantly undoing his cuffs. He looked.

Lance’s eyes were a dark, dark navy. The kind of color that looked black, but after you put it on and realize it’s just a really deep blue and it ruined the entire outfit. Keith could remember committing them to memory in the practice room, each individual eyelash, the faded freckle right under his left eyebrow, ~~which was ironic, since he didn’t even know if he’d been in the cell for days or weeks at this point.~~ “You’re kind of staring,” Lance stage whispered.

“You’re not real,” Keith said. He was crying. He was always crying.

One of the cuffs popped open and Keith’s arm dropped. Lance caught him, weaving their hands together. Pidge was at his other side, but Keith couldn’t see her.

Lance brought his hand up, hesitated before kissing along Keith’s bruised knuckles. “N-Not—“ he squeezed his eyes shut, head falling forward, against Lance’s, “r-real.”

_Pidge finally finished and Keith fell forward, legs collapsing immediately. Lance supported him, lowering them both on the ground and Keith—fuck—Keith let him, grabbing at his jacket to know, to make sure this wasn’t real, he wasn’t even in his armor._

_There was a high noise and the sound of somebody falling. Keith didn’t look up. Pidge. Lance was holding him tight, so, so tight. Two more thuds, heavier, the smell of something burning. Hunk, Shiro. His grip loosened, “Not rea—“_

_It was not tight anymore._

_Lance was a dead weight, falling dully on his side. Keith didn’t need to see it. A dull feeling took over him, as if this entire thing was believable in the first place. He inched back._

_A space right in the middle of Lance’s chest. Keith saw it, traces of his spine and ribs, the strings that were his intestines, surrounded in blood from the pool he was now lying in, soaking through Keith’s pants. He knew it what it was now._

_They cared enough to come and kill themselves, die scattered around him._

_There was a ball of darkness in Haggar’s palm, “I could kill you,” she taunted._

Do it.

Please.

What the fuck’s stopping you?

_He stayed kneeling, eyes fixed on his folded hands. It was up to his waist. He was used to the heat, the copper._

_Keith drowned._

★

This was the fourth time he’d had the nightmare.

There were no windows, and even if there were, they were in space, so it didn’t really matter. At first he thought Haggar left every time it was ‘night’ so to speak, but she came back one time after about an hour to start over.

She'd left long enough for him to actually sleep four times. So it'd been four days.

He hadn’t lost hope, and it felt kind of stupid. God, maybe he was just that stupid.

He wanted to wipe the sweat off his forehead, but both sleeves were already stained with it.

**✩**

**lance - _the same amount of time; a week_**

Due to Coran not wanting the castle to fall back into disrepair, they had one day every month where they all had to clean. Everybody was assigned a section of the castle. This time, Keith wasn’t here to clean his section, his bedroom, or his lion. There was a silence when this was brought up before Hunk raised his hand, “I could do his room. It’s right across from mine, so it wouldn’t really be too much.”

Pidge and Shiro took on the castle.

Lance was already on his way to the hangar.

✩

“…I don’t know, maybe Blue can send you some metaphysical pictures of them, but they looked _exactly_ like the giant bug thing from _Monsters vs. Aliens_. I mean, they were up to my hip, had fangs, and were this really ugly shade of green but…” He stopped, thought for a second, “Actually they looked more like Gremlins. No, yeah, it was Gremlins.”

He sat back and wiped down the final spot, sliding off her back with a small hop. He’d already cleaned Blue, so he leaned back on her front leg and crossed his arms. _Is she even listening?_

A moment later, **_Yes_.**

 _Oh_. _Can she hear me like this?_

**_No._ **

He nodded, “’S there anything else you ladies need before I go? And I mean anything, I’m really not looking forward to cleaning the healing pods again.”

After a few seconds of silence, Lance had the feeling they were talking to each other. “Feeling a bit left out here, guys—“

Red’s mouth opened.

Like actually— “Oh my God, what?” He looked between them, “What’s happening?”

**_It’s uncomfortable to be unused for some time. You can’t fly her, but your presence will be enough._ **

_Oh my God, what?_

She pushed him forward. He gaped, “Oh my—“

**_She’s reconsidering._ **

“Okay, okay, I’ll—“ he gulped, “I’ll stop. It’s just— okay.”

He took a step forward. Then another.

✩

It looked like Keith lived in his lion. Which is to say, practically everything Lance had seen Keith own was in the room. The stupid little double fanny packs were hanging on the pilot’s seat which, after asking Red if he could and not immediately getting shocked out of the premises, he examined. Righty had a bunch of tiny throwing knives in it. Like, a lot. Like, how the hell did he fit so many knives in such a tiny fanny pack. There was a total of twelve.

“Jesus,” he muttered and checked Lefty. Two ponytails and a couple of hairclips.

There was a blanket thrown in the corner with a pillow resting on top. Next to it, there was a small, worn journal and a stubby pencil. Lance blinked. A pencil and a journal. Apart from that being super old fashioned, did it mean Keith had a _diary?_ “Jackpot…” he gasped and lunged over for it, careful to not damage anything. It was an extremely worn leather with yellowed pages, some folded over, some sticking out. Maybe it was growing up with so many siblings or being friends with Hunk, but he didn’t give opening it a second thought.

So… not a diary.

The first couple of pages were crammed with small characters in what he assumed was Korean. After that it was a sketch of a flower, a daffodil or something.

More flowers, the outlines of mountains in the desert, the geometrics of his motorbike. It ran off into what Lance assumed to be the period of time while Blue was trying to communicate with him, random symbols and the same things they’d seen on the cave walls. More recent, the lions in formation, the lines of Shiro’s metal arm, or Pidge’s hand poised with a wrench. Lance’s eyes.

He traced over the lines lightly. Lance knew a lot about Keith, not gonna lie. Spending time in space with so few people did that. But Allura and Coran were constantly making them do 'team exercises' with each other since they 'worked really well' but 'couldn't stop bickering for three ticks if their lives depended on it', whatever  _that_ was supposed to mean. So they had to hang out a lot more than usual, and ended up having to suck it up and become friends. After a while, it was actually (he'll deny this to anybody you tell) kind of nice. More than kind of, actually...

Come to think of it—

But it didn't matter, did it? That they were getting along? Not anymore; not with Keith ~~dea~~   ~~done f~~  captured. A week was enough. A day, an hour, a minute, the  _second_ those hangars closed Keith could've been run through my one of the soldier's swords. Now, usually Lance was an optimist in these situations but the image, that damn image, of Keith's wide eyes, the moment of terror, of his silent name on Keith's lips before,  ~~of his whispered name on Keith's lips.~~

Lance dropped the journal.

He left Red without saying anything. Not even to Blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretty shoooort buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut
> 
> it's a filler who cares. To clarify, its been a week. Keith has not gotten any sleep, like, at all, pobre.
> 
> I seriously love reading your comments. They are literally the highlight of my day. Comment as much as you can!
> 
> Come on over and talk w me  
> Twitter: [@hivekyu](https://twitter.com/hivekyu)  
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	5. Shiro's Heart Stopping Entertainment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> generally: not a good time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why?? am i horrible?
> 
> please go back and check out chapters 3 and 4 because I edited them as of **24/11** because ao3 glitched out and stuff got cut out yadda yadda yadda
> 
> i tried posting this last night, but there were lots of malfuntions and now here we are
> 
>  **Warning:** I don't know if this needs?? a warning, but Keith has a panic attack in this. stay safe guys

**lance**

Piloting a lion wasn’t really a matter of driving it. Not like with a car or a ship, with pedals and buttons and a wheel. It was _feeling_ , letting her know you. There was no left and right, everything was based on emotions and control.

Lance tightened his hands on the shifters and pushed forward.

He didn’t want to slow down.

★

**keith**

Haggar was smirking with Shiro’s face and Keith’d never wanted to stab somebody so much in his life.

✩

**lance**

The monster looked like the Loch Ness monster's edgy sister, which should've been fitting, since it came from an ocean planet. Instead of wings, there was a bounty of glowing tentacles that were, frankly, pretty fucking annoying. It cut through the water so loudly, Lance could barely hear what they were saying over the transmission system.

This entire system was made up of water or water-like planets. It was a Galra target for it's metal coral, and they'd come to warn them, prepare their forces. Coincidentally, at the time, another, very nearby planet was rotating a bit  _too_ close, and it's resident baddie just  _woop_ jumped on over.

He watched Pidge quickly swerve to avoid a tentacle from grabbing her only to have one wrap around her lion’s torso from the back. They couldn’t form Voltron, so they couldn’t cut through the thing, so Lance rushed over and froze the limb, slamming down on it to cut it off.

It reared it’s armored head back, screeching. Lance grit his teeth, doubled Blue back.

He hadn’t gotten any sleep that night, too busy tossing and turning, _thinking_ too loudly for his own good (where were his damn stars when he needed them?), and just as he started drifting off, the alarms started their stupid blaring. Hunk must’ve fixed them. So now he had a migraine, a body full of sleep deprivation, and a god-awful crush on somebody that was probably fucking dead.

Blue sent him a wave of concern. He brushed it off. **_Lance?_**

_“Lance…”_

He hit the lever too hard, blasting the thing’s side. It didn’t do much except get it’s attention. He put on the loudspeakers, “You want some of this?!  _Ve_ _n por mi, feo!”_ Now, Lance didn’t speak giant-leviathan-alien-sea-monster, and the giant-leviathan-alien-sea-monster sure as hell couldn’t speak English _and_ Spanish (if it could, kudos for being trilingual), but it still got pretty freaking pissed at being called ugly.

It immediately went after him and Lance turned into full overdrive, circling around it’s own path.

_“Lance, slow down!”_

He rapid-fired the ice beam at any part of the monster he could reach, aggravating it further. _That’s_ when it started shooting the lasers. Okay, so, maybe not lasers, exactly, but highly concentrated, boiling hot streams of water have the same effect. Lance didn’t notice it, barely missing Blue’s tail. She growled, **_Lance, stop._**

He shot into the monster’s eye, whooping. It roared and the biggest beam yet was coming. Directly at him. Lance’s eyes widened; he froze.

Hunk dove out in front of him, and they both slammed back into the trench’s wall. He fell out of his chair, head banging on the dashboard. White noise filled his ears and there was screaming all through the comms. The sound of the water pressure dropping filled his helmet. He felt something trickle into his ear, down the side of his mouth.

He attempted using his left arm to get up and sucked in a sharp breath. A stab of pain in his shoulder. Probably dislocated. He crawled back into control. Yellow and Hunk were sinking to the bottom and Shiro was swooping in to pick him up. Pidge finally finished the net she’d been weaving from the debris in the trench and lured the monster through it, tangling it in it.

Lance drunkedly swam over there, getting rid of the rest of it’s tentacles. Pidge and Shiro had gone quiet before she asked, “Lance, what the hell?”

“What?”

Shiro interrupted, “Hunk’s unconscious. We have to get him into the healing pods ASAP. Lance, are you okay?”

“M’ shoulder’s dislocated, ‘n I’m pretty sure I’ve got a concussion.”

A second’s silence, “Let’s get going. We need to have a group meeting after everybody’s healed.”

★

**keith**

The metal hand cut straight through his ribs, closing around his heart. Blood pulsed from the opening, Keith coughed it out. ~~Shiro~~ Haggar twisted the hold and Keith thought maybe he died for a second, body convulsing. He could feel all the veins snap, the organ ripping out of his chest. But he wasn’t dead.

_Why wasn’t he fucking dead?_

He saw it

                  beat in ~~his~~ her hand. _Ba-dum._

If there’d been anything in his stomach to throw up, he’d be doing it (he hadn’t eaten for the time he’d been here; Haggar was keeping him alive by sheer magic ~~and he’d honestly rather just die~~ ). Nothing, not even the vile in his stomach, came up, just a wheezing dry heave that jumpstarted his panic attack. He shut his eyes. The world was pushing in from all sides, filling up the chasm in his chest. He couldn’t feel his hands.

Haggar laughed but it was barely decipherable under Shiro’s voice, “Really, Keith? Nothing? I’m giving you some of my best work here!” She jerked her arm back, severing it completely before throwing it on the ground. He threw his head back so he didn’t have to look, lungs heaving. It wasn’t. It wasn’t.

She seized him by his chin, like the first time, forcing him to look at ~~her~~ Shiro’s face, so full of malice. But it couldn’t touch his eyes—those were hers. _“I never can get them right,”_ she’d said when she walked in at the beginning of the session, all razor sharp metal, _“but no matter.”_

“This is you, Keith Kogane,” she hissed, pressing Shiro’s heel into Keith’s heart. He felt it, the sharp plastic biting through the muscle, “ _weak.”_ He tried shaking her off, vision going blurry. _Not real, not real, not real, no—_

Haggar snarled and crushed his heart. It made a disgusting noise, blood flooding the floor. Keith couldn’t close his mouth, pain exploding where there was nothing.

_—t real._

The mess disappeared, the stabbing stopped. He sobbed, finally mustering enough strength to kick her away. She took two steps back. An illusion. All of it.

She stared at him and snickered, putting Shiro’s hand up to examine, “I helped manufacture the Champion’s prosthetic, did you know? Quite a piece of technology,” she clenched it into a fist, driving it into Keith’s jaw, “until your team stole it.”

There was a loud crack and he felt himself deaf in that ear. He swirled blood around in his mouth and spit out two molars.

✩

**lance**

Lance sloppily landed Blue, muttering an apology before stumbling out. She ignored him. Coran was already pushing Hunk away on a floating gurney and Lance started after them, tripping on his own feet. Shiro helped him upright. “Take off your helmet.”

He gave a weak thumbs up, flinging it behind him with a clatter. Shiro checked the wounds, eyebrows knitting together. He touched the side of Lance’s head tentatively before nodding, “Healing pod. Now.”

That was his dad voice, and Lance sure as hell wasn’t going to contradict it. Shiro helped him catch up with Coran, putting his hand on the side of the gurney. Lance glanced at Hunk and winced. His best friend’s face was crusted over with blood, the darkest coming from his crushed nose. His hair was coated in it on the same side Lance got his concussion. Bruises were already blooming along where he got hit.

“Oh god…” Lance’d done this. He’d gotten careless, hadn’t even noticed, “God, buddy, I’m so sorry.”

If Hunk heard him, he didn’t say anything.

✩

When they put him into the pod, all his injuries flashed on the screen. He’d broken ribs three, four, and twelve. The bone had been poking almost through his skin. He also had a concussion, along with a cut on his hair line. A broken nose, as anticipated and minor internal bleeding. Due to his lion being able to withstand so much, she wasn’t really damaged except for a big scorched spot on the flank. She’d protected him from most of the blast, but the heat had concaved a part of the ceiling and made one of the screens fall on him.

Lance shoved himself into the pod before the wave of guilt hit him. It didn’t work.

★

**keith**

Haggar’s lip twitched as she flicked Shiro’s hand. The snap of all

Keith’s injuries disappearing still knocked the wind out of him. He felt the four fingers and three teeth reattach. The lacerations on his body stitched back up, bruises stopped aching. She watched him, “Is there anything you would like to tell me, Keith?”

Keith hadn’t spoken in (approximately) four days. He kept his mouth shut.

She shed the disguise as she turned through the door.

✩

**lance**

After he woke up, Lance got dressed and went directly to the hangar to apologize. Blue, however, was under maintenance, and not really in the mood to talk, apparently. He shoved his hands in his pockets and started stalking away, catching sight of Red right before he made it through the door. He backtracked towards her.

Miraculously, she didn't immediately eat him when he stepped near. He made sure to keep at least a foot of space between them. "Hey..." he swallowed, ran a hand through his hair, "Sorry... for walking out on— of?— you so suddenly. Maybe Blue or Yellow told you what happened already, and that'd not really helping my case. We're still looking. Allura's trying really hard, but she can't get a firm signal yet. She wants to try talking to you but isn't sure.

"Let her, Red. This is our best shot. And I'm gonna be blunt here; the crash was probably because of this. It's messing me up big time, and I get that's selfish, but screw it: Keith being gone's got me screwed for some reason. I don't know why, but I need to sort my shit out, and to do that he needs to be back here. Safe." He cupped his elbows loosely with his hands, "I can't really talk to anyone about it, or Pidge and Hunk might start thinking..." his hold tightened and he started walking away, "I just came to apologize."

✩

Hunk was still in the pod a day after Lance got out. Lance sat, food tray on the steps next to him, knee bouncing impatiently. “C’mon, man… c’mon…”

“Lance.”

It was tempting to pretend he didn’t hear him. But Lance was stupid, not suicidal.

“Shiro.”

The black paladin sat next to him, elbows on his thighs, folded hands covering his mouth. He thought maybe he saw Hunk’s breath stutter. “What the hell was that, Lance?” He wasn’t looking at him, eyes fixed on Hunk.

“I… Shiro, I’m sorry—“

“It’s not me you have to say sorry to, Lance, and I don’t really care about apologies right now. I want to know what the hell that was.”

He ducked his head down, “It wasn’t… this whole thing with Keith’s got me thrown off—“

“Do not,” now he was glaring, head sharply turned towards Lance, and nobody that still had purple residue all over his face should look that intimidating, “tell me this happened because of Keith. Especially you. We’re _all_ screwed up by what happened to him, Lance, but none of us explicitly disregard the plan and get one of our team members hospitalized!” He threw an arm in the pod’s direction.

Lance didn’t mean to snap, “Well, I guess I do! Don’t you think I feel like complete shit because of this? It’s not— What’s, ‘especially you,’ supposed to mean?”

He knew if he talked back like that to his _mama_ , his jaw would be halfway back to Earth from the _chancletaso_ she’d’ve given him, but Shiro bit back, “I _mean_ you and Keith are constantly at each other’s throats! You can’t be in the same room for more than two seconds without fighting, and now that he’s God knows where, miles away, you suddenly care?”

“Of course I freaking care!” Lance shouted (he was shouting at Takashi Shirogane; __Jesus en ti confio__ ), “He's still my teammate! I still l—" he swallowed it down, catching it back with his tongue, not really sure what he was going to say but sure he didn't want Shiro hearing it.

Shiro’s eyes narrowed, “You still what?”

Thank God for Hunk’s perfect timing, because the pod finally hissed open. They stood up, Lance shouting for Pidge, who's brought the food, to come back. She ran in on time for Hunk to fall out. Lance caught him, Shiro helping support him to lean against the pod.

He made a noise and lazily blinked awake, squinting into the light. Pidge was bouncing back and forth on her feet. Hunk sniffed at the air for a moment before perking up, and breaking away from them, “Is that the berries we found last month?”

Lance let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Pidge surged forward and punched Hunk’s arm, which prompted some squealing, “Hey, hey! I was just, like, _heavily_ injured, Pidge, c’mon!”

“Next time don’t be selfless and let Lance get what’s coming to him, okay?”

Lance didn’t argue, smiling weakly, “She’s right.”

“I’m always right, asshole.”

He threw a quarter-hearted glare at her.

Hunk grabbed a handful of berries and shoved them in his mouth, turning back to Lance, “Y’ m’kay?”

“Cause of you, yeah,” he sniffed, “Hunk, I’m sorry. I should’ve—“

Hunk rolled his eyes and scooped Lance into a tight hug, “Shut up. Just never do it again.”

He hugged him back and nodded, “Whatever you say, buddy.”

✩

After recapping and hanging out for about an hour, Coran came running into the room, frantically yelling something in Altean and interrupting Lance’s story about he and his sister getting their heads stuck in the same swing two years apart. Shiro waved him down, “Cor—Coran, hey!” He stopped. Shiro motioned to his ears, “You were speaking Altean.”

“What? Oh, yes, well—“ he laughed giddily, “I usually talk to Allura in Altean. It helps us not lose the language. But that’s not the point!” His voice rose an octave and he jumped, “Allura communicated with Red and she made a connection. We have the coordinates. We can go find Keith!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never had a panic attack, so if I do something inaccurate please tell me
> 
> I'm tryna get chapters done so i can make a schedule for uploading :^)
> 
>  **Translation:**  
>  "Come and get me, ugly!"
> 
> I'm not as messed up in real life!!! I swear,  
> Twitter: [@hivekyu](https://twitter.com/hivekyu)  
> Tumblr: [@paladon-t](http://paladon-t.tumblr.com/)


	6. Stay Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *inserts gif of elmo with his arms outstretched, flames behind him* r i s e

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry
> 
> in advance
> 
> Also I learned what the word gaslighting means so there
> 
> "Wow nineteen chapters???" I hear u ask me. Yes. Bear with me. I haven't put some tags on because spoilers ;;^)) so the fic's central point isn't actually keith getting... just watch
> 
>  **Warning:** very minor panic attack

**keith**

It was weird as fuck, but Keith never dreamed before this. Being tortured, I mean. It just didn’t happen. He slept, he woke up. It was kind of the reason why he zoned out so much throughout the day. He daydreamed, like his brain was trying to make up for the lost time.

She was definitely the one behind his nightmares. He’d been able to push most everything in his head out of her reach, but the things at surface level, the team, his constant worry, she could see. If she’d been smart, she’d’ve come in as Lance.

But she wasn’t smart.

She was evil.  _Cunning_.

If Lance were to walk through that door, Keith wouldn’t believe it. Not for anything in the world.

The Shiro impersonation was new. He’d actually thought, for a moment—

 ★

The first time she’d faked him out, it was the third day. About thirty some minutes into the session (‘session’ sounded better than ‘torture’ in his head), he’d felt something crawling. There was no fixed point of where, just that it was, and Keith wanted it to stop. It wasn’t until they’d made eye contact and she’d smiled that he realized it was inside him.

In his head, behind his eyes, right under the skin of his shoulder. When she realized  _he_  realized, it began coming out of his ears, nose, every opening. But he couldn’t see them. He thrashed, trying to get them off. They fucking didn’t.

★

She’d set him on fire with the same method. Made him watch his skin melt off his bones, charred black, his blood evaporating from his veins.

★

It was, to say the least, not very fun.

★

He slept now only when absolutely necessary. The rest of the time was thinking about how much his arms ached and what it would be like back at the castle. Wandering he hallways when he couldn’t sleep and bumping into Hunk, who went into the kitchen sometimes at two am to try a recipe that had just popped into his head. Getting into discussions with Pidge about the mechanics of how the ship is able to navigate (“It has to be something like XI rockets!” “No, those are the ones I rigged to my bike; they wouldn’t carry the castle from Earth to the moon.”). And Lance.

Just…

Lance in general.

★

_Keith grabbed Lance’s wrist and pinned it at the small of his back, knocking them both on the ground. He kept one leg folded under him, pushing Lance down for a few seconds before letting go. “Your form isn’t right. You’re putting your legs too far apart and your hands aren’t covering anything specific.”_

_Lance groaned, rolling on his back and jumping to his feet, “You have shorter limbs than I do, dude! I have no control over this.” He flapped his arms around. Keith rolled his eyes._

_“See, I have noodle bones, but this,” he rolled his sleeve up, showing off his bicep, “is all muscle, baby.”_

_“Yeah, okay,” Keith snorted, “whatever you say.” And, maybe, he stared. Maybe. Just a bit. Because there wasn’t really ‘muscle’, but he wasn’t overly skinny either, and it fit with his broad shoulders. “You’re right-handed, right?”_

_“Yup. Why?”_

_Keith sighed, “Jesus,_ that’s  _why you have such awful coordination! You put all your weight on your left foot and put it in front. Switch your stance this time, push off your right.”_

_He did it, awkwardly putting his fists up, “Like this?”_

_“Mm,” he walked over, “now you’re bending your knee too much.” He nudged his knee until it was at a straighter angle. He went behind him and pulled his shoulders backwards so his hands were higher. Lance was turned to look at him but Keith pushed his head back. He rearranged his arms and fists so that they were farther away from his body, but still covered his face and collarbone. Lingered maybe a moment too long._

_He blinked and backtracked, “Alright, try it out now.”_

_Keith struck first, going in for an immediate roundhouse. It caught Lance in the side when he dodged in the wrong direction, but now that Keith was a foot closer, he was able to land a solid hit._

_Keith doubled back then surged forward. Lance used his forearm to deflect Keith’s swing, twisting it and grabbing the other with his hand. He twirled them around, putting them in almost the exact same hold Keith’d had Lance in._

_He heard the smile in Lance’s voice, the warm air at his ear, “Did it work?”_

_Keith almost leaned into him. Almost. He shook himself out of the hold instead, rubbing at his arms, “Shut up.”_

★

He wished he’d leaned back that time.

Or held his hand whenever he flapped them around as he talked.

Or kissed him that day in the training room.

God. God he wished he’d done  _something_  before this happened—so Lance would know—

_"Hey, yeah, Lance, real quick: could I punch you in the face? With my mouth?"_

Know what? 

★

He was starting to miss Earth.

He missed the little plant on his windowsill that was probably dead. He missed his bike, practically his baby since he'd built her from the ground up. He missed the feeling of rain plastering his hair to his face.

★

Keith didn’t even think this time when Shiro walked in. Haggar rose an eyebrow, “This does not have an effect on you anymore?”

He shrugged. Nothing actually had an effect on him anymore, lmao.

“Ah. I see. Well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” She shifted and Pidge was standing there, hands in her pockets. Keith looked at her like,  _Are you serious?_  Her eyes flickered, and it just looked so wrong, “You do not care? Truly?” Pidge walked forward, adjusting her glasses, “No?”

He must’ve been a hella good actor because she took off the mirages, back to herself, gaze boring into him. He gulped. A grin spread over her face. She chuckled darkly, “Oh. I see…”

_No you ca—_

Keith’d jinxed it, hadn’t he? When he’d thought he’d been able to hide things? Because maybe, if she’d just been Lance, he’d’ve thought it was just her, taunting him like with Shiro.

But the moment Lance was in the room, Keith dropped out of the handcuffs. The first time he’d been out of them since putting it on. He blinked. Shakily put his hands up in front of him to rub at his wrists. The skin was red and foreign.

His head snapped up when she took a step forward and he scrambled all the way back.

Haggar shook her head, leaning into a comfortable position Lance always took, slightly slouched due to his height, arms crossed, “No, I do. I really do. I’ve overheard you’ve wanted to kill me quite a few times. Inflict the damage that has been done to you. Well,” she outstretched his arms out to the sides and Keith’s bayard fell into his lap, “now’s your chance.”

She tilted his head, “Kill me, Keith. It’s not that hard.”

✩

**lance**

Hunk passed his hand over the table, transferring the diagram onto a bigger platform. “I scanned for the ship’s blueprints on those coordinates and there’s a bit of a problem,” he widened the picture, “they put him in another ship. It’s reinforced so no one can get in or out, and most of it is just cell blocks. They basically have him in space Alcatraz.”

“Great,” Pidge drawled, bending over the prints and lifting up a section of the landing dock, “so there’s no entrance except for this?”

“There  _are_  the maitenence elavators leading to the roof," he pointed, "but you'll get instantly spotted. We could go ghost in Green

Lance frowned, “We can’t all fit in Green, though… is there any chance you could rewire the invisibility shields on Blue and Yellow, Pidge?”

“Not in time. We need to go, like, yesterday. Anyways, it's no use to go through the elevators. Then what? We can't spend so much time wandering the ship; we'll be caught."

Coran muttered something and motioned at the two blocks they’d circled in red. Highest security and moderate. Either the Galra went all out and locked him away, or they knew they’d target that section and put him in one of the normal cells. “We allow them to see one of the lions. Wherever they send the soldiers is where we find Keith.”

Lance beamed, “Coran, you’re a genius.”

“Correct.”

“But that means we need to be quicker in the capture. We need to have people positioned at each side,” Shiro rubbed at his neck, "and even then it'll be suspicious to only have two of the lions circling."

Allura was already in her battle gear, snapping the ribbon around her bun, “I could project images of Blue and Green flying alongside you two."

“Perfect. In that case, do you think you could do Black too? If Lance and Pidge are getting Keith, Hunk and I need to go to the storage rooms and get Keith's stuff back, since it's unlikely they let him keep anything, and taking my lion would only be a risk."

She thought for a moment before giving a sharp nod, "Count on me."

“We’ll have go from top to bottom,” Pidge traced the path with her finger, “Lance can stun the guards before we get off Green. We go down the elevator and spread out to each block."

They finessed it a bit, gave exact routes and examined the rounds of each group of soldiers. Surprisingly, this ship had less population of Galra than others. Sure, it was smaller, but it was still a prison. Whatever. Forget the more the merrier, the less the easier to break your angry teammate out of an alien prison. They were probably way too confident in their security. Ha.

Finally, Shiro clapped his hands, “Okay, everybody suit up, Allura can you start powering up the worm hole?”

She nodded, turning on her heel, “On it.”

✩

Lance jogged alongside Shiro on the way to their lions, “I’m really sorry for shouting, Shiro. You gotta know I give a shit about this."

He slowed down so Lance could catch his breath. He was the one with longer legs, so the situation should’ve been switched, but Shiro doesn’t skip leg day. Lance put his hands on his knees, “Thanks.”

“I almost didn’t want to let you go on this mission,” Shiro said, taking off his helmet to wipe off the visor, “but your lion’s the fastest after Red.”

“Shiro, I know I was going kind of crazy, but I’m back, alright? I promise I’ll listen, I’ll follow the plan.”

“You don’t have to convince me. You’re already on.” His tone softened, “I’m sorry too. Just… seriously, do what Hunk says and never do  _that_  again. You scared us, Lance.”

Lance has never been scary. Sure, he popped out of corners to scare his siblings and made sure their house was the spookiest one on the block during Halloween, but he, as a person, wasn’t scary.

He gulped, “I’ll keep it together.”

✩

Blue almost didn’t open the hatch for him. He touched the dent in her flank before going in. He carefully walked into the control pit, bouncing on his toes to run back to Green.

_I’m stupid._

_**Yes.** _

_I should’ve listened._

_**Yes.** _

_I’m sorry._

_**You better be.** _

“I am,” he said and finally calmed down.  _Tell Red we’re getting him back. These are the coordinates._ He typed them into the computer and waited.

_**She says thank you.** _

The comms crackled, Allura chimed, “Everybody ready?”

"Wait!" Lance scrambled out of Blue, patting her front paw as he went. He did the same to Red as he passed her, finally climbing into Green's closing mouth. Pidge tried scowling, but ended up rolling her eyes instead.

She held one hand to her helmet, “Ready.”

The wormhole snapped into existence and there was a moment of bated breath before shesaid, “Let’s get our paladin back.”

**★**

**keith**

Keith looked back and forth between the sword and  ~~Lance~~  Haggar. It was Haggar. That was Haggar. He could’ve had her at knife’s edge by now.

“Come on,” she snorted, Lance’s snort, “you can’t be losing your bite now! The game’s just started!”

She strode forward, dropping into a crouch in front of him. He pressed himself into the wall. She roughly grabbed the sword, shoving it into his hand and putting the tip to where Lance’s heart was, “Don’t be a coward! Do it!”

He tried pulling away but she kept him in place. No—this wasn’t—

He adjusted his grip on the sword and drove it home, but she turned to mist, letting him topple forward on his hands and knees. He fell back on his heels and the sword clattered. Lance was leaning through the doorway, helmet obscuring his face but for his gaping mouth, “K-Keith?”

Keith shook, wrapping his arms around himself to hold it together. No. No, he wasn’t real. This wasn’t real.

“Would you actually—Did you just—“

The door shut and Lance wasn’t there and Keith’d never left his cuffs. He clenched his teeth, sharply turning his head to avoid looking at Haggard. “I suppose it is time,” she said, low, “is it not?” 

✩

**lance**

They regrouped behind a nearby moon.

Lance set his gun on stun and told Pidge to go. He watched Green disappear from Shiro and Hunk's cameras and they glid over to the roof of the ship. It was much bulkier than the usual fare. The metal seemed thicker, and the color blended in with space more. The timer for Green's invisibility had ten ticks left. Lance positioned himself at her mouth, hidden behind a panel, and shot down the the pair of guards at each of the four elevators. One almost got away but Lance finally jumped out and went after them, knocking them unconscious with a swing of his bayard.

Pidge hopped off Green as soon as she was visible again, calmly reading all the elevators before reffering to Lance, "This one's yours. That's mine," she went over to him, sliding the guards out of the doorway. Lance made an okay sign and gave Pidge a quick one-armed hug before going to his chute. His doors closed as hers did and he and waved her down. She saw him. He flipped her off. She returned the sentiment.

“Stay safe, Lance.”

“I’m always safe.”

✩

He climbed the air lines crawling the ceiling of the ship, finally finding something like an air duct to crawl into. He nestled into it, gun cocked, and relaxed. He and Pidge had to wait for some sign that Shiro and Hunk were spotted before going, so that  _they_  weren’t spotted.

They were getting Keith back. They were actually getting him  _back_. Lance smiled to himself, leaning his head back.

**★**

**keith**

“You understand what we did to Shirogane, correct? The upgrade?” He ground his teeth to keep from answering. “He won against one of our more difficult opponents in the arena. It left his arm quite out of commission.

“And we couldn’t have a gladiator without an arm. So we built him the new one. Now he abuses it against us, his benefactors.

“We will not be making the same mistake for you.” Her image changed, completely deadpan, “I am sure of it.”

Keith didn't have time to blink—

To breathe—

She came forward, and Shiro's hand was glowing, bright bright it hurt Keith's eyes to stare

as it drove through his leg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> his leggie fell off
> 
> in case that aint clear
> 
> I KNOW I KNOW IM HORRIBLE
> 
> JUST
> 
> STAB ME INT He NOStIRIL WI TH A Dull pEN
> 
> TELL ME HOW MUCH YOU HATE ME HERE!!!  
> Twitter: [@hivekyu](https://twitter.com/hivekyu)  
> Tumblr: [@paladon-t](http://paladon-t.tumblr.com/)


	7. Giving What's Been Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :^(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who hates me?
> 
> me.
> 
> i hate me.
> 
> i also found out what gaslighting means so there.
> 
>  **u:** why did u change ur name??? and like keep changing literally everything?????
> 
>  **me, snapping my fingers as I walk backwards into an alley:** well, my dude, my guy, there's definitely an explanation, my pal
> 
> i'll stop. im sorry. wont do it again. enjoy the rest of the show.

**lance**

Shiro and Hunk were going to fly out in full view of the ship and Allura’s holograms were supposed to go straight to the hull of the ship. It diverted attention from the roof and got most of the Galra forces on the lowest level, away from Pidge and Lance.

**★**

**keith**

He was screaming, I think.

She was attacking at an inch or two above his knee, the heat of ~~the hand~~ of her, her power, cauterizing it as she hacked. The pain—the smell of burning, like when she made him hallucinate.

This wasn’t—

It was real. It was very, very real. It was the feeling of having all the nerves severed, it was the skin hanging off, clinging on until she got the final thing piece that was tearing away. It disintegrated before it hit the ground (like the simulations in the castle, he thought faintly) He passed out, came to a second later. There was almost no blood to a wound he _knew_ should be practically flooding, and the absence made it that much worse.

Panic attacks were—God—a bitch, _Jesus_. Now was not the _fucking_ time. His remaining toes brushed the ground, but he couldn’t really feel it. Since when was the world so—much?

She wrinkled her bloodstained nose and fanned a hand across her face, “Hm. How distasteful. I’ll be back after this airs out.”

★

She didn’t even open the door this time, opting for the casual disappearing act as her exit. Keith weakly tried lifting his thigh up to try and see, but fell back when the sting ran up to his hip.

He couldn’t fight like this. His center of gravity, and in turn coordination, would be totally thrown off. He would need to relearn all his techniques. And with his left leg, nether the less, as if she—

She knew. Of course she fucking knew.

He kicked the wall behind him. A tear dripped off his chin.

How very tragic.

**✩**

**lance**

The alarm was one quick beep, and a rumbling voice announced, _“Upper sector two to cell block three, Prisoner 378-02. All lowermost sectors to Hull Management. An imminent threat has been detected.”_

All odd cell blocks were was Lance’s. Each sector was a shift of soldiers, which meant the group currently on their way was made up of at least twenty-five soldiers. The particular number of the sector meant that they were flesh and blood, not robots, which were steadily still patrolling under him.

There was a practiced chorus of uniformed feet thundering into the vent he was shuffling out of. Lance waited for them to fade away before lightly landing on his feet, jumping into the straight cut off the hallway. He made sure his gun was off safety.

He tightened his hold on the trigger.

Lance kept pressed to the wall so he could hide in one of the many deep niches when he heard approaching footsteps. He was really tempted to say something into his helmet, but they’d all agreed they wouldn’t because the transmission could be registered by the ship. But the thought of it was comforting.

He squeaked silently as a pair of soldiers came around the corner and he nagged his head on the light when he ducked into the niche. He and Keith’d used this same method on another ship when they were hijacking a trade vehicle and the exact same thing had happened. That time, though, Keith was there to snort and call him stupid.

Lance could literally never fathom a time when he’d wanted to be called stupid.

✩

Pidge joined him halfway through, literally dropping in from a maintenance chute. They were loosely following the ever-present whisper of soldiers marching to their assignment, but it was starting to get more and more far away. Finally, they had to settle. “We need to catch up,” Pidge muttered, whipping out her bayard, “make one of them lead the way—“

“It’s twenty-three against two, man.”

“Yeah, but we have the element of surprise and shields.”

“I feel like you’re making this up.”

“I am, but I’m also extremely impatient. Hunk and Shiro are already in. Coran sent the blow up comm.”

Yikes. Which meant… no, yeah, they definitely had to hurry.

They silently sprinted down the hallway to make their way towards the wide room of thin railings lined with cell doors. The mass of soldiers were about to step foot on the stairs when Lance mowed down eight in the back. He summoned his shield, crouching behind it and letting Pidge whip some weapons out of their hands before starting again. He got one at close range, but his buddy to the left took the chance to grab him by his gun and whirl him around, slamming Lance’s face into the wall and, _yowza_ , that was _definitely_ leaving a bruise.

He snarled, sending a thank you up to Keith as he used this momentum to push off the wall, back into the soldier, and break his head up into the Galra’s chin. He crumbled and Lance got rid of the three about to avenge him.

Pidge was huddled behind her shield, repeating the same hand signals over and over. _Shields up, fifty-fifty, one prisoner._ Lance nodded and kept as much of himself behind the shield as possible, running forward to catch the group shooting at him off guard.

It worked; Lance rammed them all together, consequently getting themselves hit. Pidge slid between three soldiers, driving her bayard up in an umbrella of electricity, then throwing it around the legs of two others. She pulled and they fell, giving way to only one young Galra left, which Lance had his bayard pointed at already. He looked petrified, staring at the twitching bodies strewn around the room. Lance had a twinge of sympathy, “They aren’t dead,” the kid visibly relaxed, “but it isn’t going to be pretty when they wake up. Take us to Prisoner 378-02.”

The soldier put both hands up, dropping his gun (which was pretty freaking boneheaded, in Lance’s very professional opinion). Pidge kicked it away. “Th—They’ll have my head— Commander Rigus—“

“—can just about shove this entire ship up his ass, I don’t care. We’re here to get our friend back. Take us. Now.”

“F—Fine. But you never—just—“

“Just nothing,” Pidge growled, “ _now_.”

He nodded frantically, stiffly walking where they asked him to go.

 ✩

The soldiers guarding Prisoner 378-02's cell were not boneheaded. They had shields up before Lance could react, and he grabbed Pidge to hide her behind him. A shot whizzed past Lance’s head. Their captive waved his arms, “Wait! Wait, don’t shoot _me!”_

The second they hesitated was enough for Lance to push him away and knock over the Left Guard, nailing his shoulder. The close distance had the other guard thrown off, catching Lance in the side. There was a grunt and the sound of the guard sliding down the wall. Pidge turned off her bayard, helping Lance up. He stomped his foot to keep from crying out.

★

**keith**

Keith was pretty sure the cell walls were soundproof, but there was a bang against the outside. That was new.

**✩**

**lance**

The kid fell silently. Lance finally shrank his gun back to it’s bayard form. Pidge pointed at the growing dark spot on Lance’s suit, “We need to wrap that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he took off his arm metals and ripped the sleeve off, tightly tying the fabric around the wound, “looks worse than it is.” She glared at him and started on the locks, taking what looked like a screwdriver out of her pocket. Lance rose an eyebrow, “Really?”

She put a hand up to shut him up, “Locks like these,” she clicked it into the side of the doorway, “are designed to be impenetrable. The designers take every big name lock picking technique in mind and fight against that. However,” she flicked it the side and there was a click, “they don’t anticipate a fourteen year old human girl who grew up with Matt Holt as a brother.”

He gaped, “What?”

“It’s overcomplicated. Like taking apart the entire hover to get to the power box instead of just plugging it in. Simple solutions give better results,” she nudged the door open with her foot, “voíla.”

**★**

**keith**

“…voíla.” Keith steeled himself for Pidge to come in. That was her voice, and Haggar must’ve been getting better at the deliverance, because he couldn’t hear her echo under it.

**✩**

**lance**

Pidge bumped back into Lance the second she stepped in, covering her mouth with one hand, “Keith…”

“What?” Lance urged her forward, “It’s bad isn’t it? How bad is it?”

**★**

**keith**

Pretty fucking horrible, no thanks to you.

**✩**

**lance**

She squared back her shoulders and marched in, screwdriver clenched at her side. Lance closed the door behind them, finally looking

✩★

                  up.

“ _Puta madre…”_ His hair was hanging over his face, and they'd put him in a prisoner's uniform, so Lance couldn’t exactly see the state of him, but that wasn’t really the _issue_ here. The _issue_ was that Keith’s right leg was _out_. Like, _not in the building._ “Oh my God, Keith.”

Now he acknowledged their presence. His head twitched up, at Lance, then Pidge. He didn’t speak. His eyes were terrifyingly hollow.

**★**

**keith**

Keith didn’t remember falling asleep.

Lance’s bleeding was new. The bleeding usually didn’t happen until later. “Keith?” He finally stepped over, “Buddy, it’s me. We’re getting you out.”

He scoffed.

This was really getting old. _Whatever you say, Lance._

**✩★**

**lance**

Lance hesitated before pushing the hair out of Keith’s face, tucking it behind his ears. “Keith?” He glanced at Lance then back down, and Lance didn’t see that as immediate rejection, “Keith, c’mon,” he attempted a laugh, “we’re saving you here. I expected some kind of hero’s welcome, maybe a ‘Wow, you guys, especially Lance, are the best ever’. Y’know, like that time when I saved you from drowning in that water bubble on—” Keith’s eyes snapped back up, eyebrow ticking up.

**★**

**keith**

She’d never used any of his memories against him before. What, did ripping his leg off mark a new chapter of methods for fucking him up?

**✩★**

**lance**

“You remember that, right? Work with me here, buddy. What happened? What did they do to you?” _What can’t we fix?_ Keith tilted his head to the side slightly, glancing at Pidge. She finally jammed the handcuff off, not waiting for Keith’s arm to fall before jumping over to the other one.

Keith hissed, tucking his hand into his chest, leaning all his weight on his remaining foot. Lance caught a glimpse of his wrist and reached out to examine it, realizing his hand was still on Keith’s cheek. He pulled it away and crossed his arms, “Would you let me look at it?”

He kept it there for a moment before something like defeat passed over his face and he handed it over. Lance took it lightly in one hand, using the other to take off his visor. The skin around where the cuff had been was an angry, bruised purple. He ran a thumb over it, prodded at it with his index finger and Keith snatched it back “I’ve want to check if it’s fractured!”

_Or have an excuse to touch you, since the healing pod can diagnose you anyway._

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Keith blinked, like, _Only Lance could be this fucking dumb, Jesus Christ._

**★**

**keith**

_Only Lance could be this fucking dumb, Jesus Christ._

**✩★**

**lance**

He squawked, making exaggerated gestures, “I mean, apart from the _obvious_ , dude! I want to know if I need to be careful with anything while we’re taking you back.”

Pidge whispered, “Timber,” as she undid the last cuff and Keith fell forward. Lance caught him, refraining from making some stupid joke (for the first time in his goddamn life), and put one arm around his waist to help him stand up. Keith’s hands were on his shoulders, and he was looking directly at Lance, as if searching for something. “Uh…” Lance laughed nervously, “I know you haven’t had the privilege of being blessed by my good looks for a week, Keith, but now’s really not the time—“

There was this little signal they’d developed since an incident where Lance (very obviously, obviously) told Keith to run forward, take a right, and wait out in that corner so they could ambush in from both sides. _Apparently_ , Keith couldn’t understand simple intricate hand gestures because that did not happen— But the point is, they coordinated shit.

One for going right, up, down, left, the coast is clear. Is the coast clear? All of them were simple enough to be done in a tight spot, in case they could be spotted very easily; so that one was raise your eyebrows and signal towards the coast.

**★**

**keith**

It didn’t feel wrong. That hazy fog of nightmare he always had wasn’t there, and Keith was tempted—

It was worth a shot.

**✩★**

**lance**

Keith raised his eyebrows, but kept his eyes on him. Calculated. Important. Lance swallowed and nodded, fingers tapping over Keith’s side to imitate the wave so he didn’t have to let him go.

A dawning realization washed away Keith’s hostile expression. He took his hand away, opened his mouth, closed it a little bit. Tried again and succeeded, “Lance?”

His voice was hoarse, like it hadn’t been used for a long time. ~~Lance had never heard anything so beautiful in his entire~~ ~~fucking life.~~ He laughed, “The one and only!”

**★✩**

**keith**

No blood on the walls, no gaping hole in his stomach. This was Lance. This was actually, really, truly, _Lance_. Keith almost started crying; but this wasn’t a nightmare. He was not going to cry.

“Uh, no,” Pidge (God, _Pidge_ ) tucked away her screwdriver, “I can say with a certainty that there are at least three other Lances in existence, currently.”

“Name _one_.”

“Lance.”

“Damn,” Lance’s eyes were shining, “you got me there.” His hold was strong on Keith’s waist.

**✩★**

**lance**

He hiked one of Keith’s arms over his shoulder. “Wanna explain what happened now?”

“Druid,” he muttered, cleared his throat, “druid. Her name is Haggar, she’s sort of like a witch.”

“She cut your leg off?”

“More or less,” Keith said gravley, “she left a little bit before you guys came. Said the smell of it was ‘distasteful’.”

Lance’s stomach churned, “Jesus.” They had not anticipated a _witch_.

Pidge shook herself out, “Wow, okay, you have a lot of explaining to do to everybody at the castle.”

“Yeah,” Lance adjusted himself to a more comfortable position, “ _vamonos.”_

After three one-legged hops, Lance honestly could _not_. It wasn’t even pity, it was his body’s honest-to-God physical reaction. He stopped and picked Keith up, his side screaming, and he shut it up. Keith yelped, arms immediately flying to wrap around Lance’s neck,

“Jesus, what have you been _eating_ —“

“Absolutely nothing. Lance, what the _hell_ —“

“I just—,” he shook his head and motioned for Pidge, who was now smirking, to keep walking, “can’t. This is faster.

“Wait, _nothing?_ The hell you mean _nothing?”_

Keith thought for a second, “I mean: _nada_.”

He had a terrible accent, even for such a simple word, and it should not have made Lance’s heart flutter like it did, “They haven’t fed you? How are you alive?”  
“I think she was keeping me alive with her magic. I haven’t left that cell since I got here.”

Lance clicked his tongue, “Well, get ready for the motherfucking _feast_ Hunk’s gonna make for you when we’re back. Jesus, ten _days_ without—“  
“Wait what? Ten?” Keith stared at him, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?”

They went silent for a bit. Pidge had to take out two soldiers on the way. She glanced back at them every now and then and smirked. He squinted at her, _We’re breaking him out of a Galran jail after learning he was tortured. Really?_

She shrugged, _I can’t hear what you’re thinking. Sorry._

Keith coughed.

✩★

“You guys… came back for me?”

Lance snorted, “No. Coran just told us the view from the inside of a Galran jail ship was very nice this time of year.” Keith nodded and looked down at his chest. Lance gaped, “You’re not serious? Keith, of course I— we came back for you!”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

“Is now the time where you finally start thanking us?”

Keith frowned, “If you’re still talking about the water bubble thing back at Lantica, I distinctly remember _you_ being the one who threw me in it in the first place, and I punched you the second I got out.”

“See, but I don’t remember it like that. I remember you thanking me and praising me as your savior, ‘Lance, you really are the bestest, greatest guy in all the universes! Your skills and handsomeness are unparalleled, even by me—“

“No I’m with Keith,” Pidge said matter-of-factly, lagging back, hopping over a fallen soldier, “I remember the black eye you had after it.”

“Me too. Pretty sure you cried—“

“Alright, one more word from either of you, and I’m dropping Keith.”

“You wouldn’t,” Keith dismissed, but his hold was that much tighter.

Lance smiled devilishly, “Really? Want to test that theory—“

“Gladly—“ Keith seized

and went limp. His arms slipped off of Lance’s shoulders.

Just like that. “Keith?” Lance stopped walking. Pidge stopped with him.

His eyes were open, but he was breathing, that was important. Lance thought maybe he was shaking but that was just him, “Keith, talk t—“

He shook his head and blood—blood started seeping through his clothes and Lance couldn’t see what the source was. Pidge went pale.

And Lance felt her before he saw her. Something like static in the air and they were thrown back, Lance’s head cracking on the pillar. He heard Pidge cry out and Keith’s dull whimper as they hit the ground. There was a laugh that scraped up Lance’s spine like a knife, low enough that maybe he imagined it. “You did not really think,” He weakly lifted his head to see the figure in a purple robe approaching Keith, “I was going to let you escape that easily, did you?”

Lance got up on one knee, “Don’t touch him.”

“Oh,” she was amused, “and what will you do stop m—“

He reached behind him for his bayard, turning off the stun as he shot at her. She avoided it narrowly, gliding to the side. Smoke came off the area around her shoulder. She snarled, the marks around her eyes contorting, “You are lucky most of my power is trained on him,” she jerked her head, “or you would be but a pile of dust.”

“You’re Haggar,” Pidge grit out, “you’re the witch—“

“I am, I suppose. In your human opinion. But I am not just; this puts me in position as Emperor Zarkon’s most trusted advisor. So trusted, in fact,” she sent a razor smile Keith’s way, “that I was in charge for the interrogation of your teammate here. This does take a toll on me, you can imagine. The stock of quintessence on this ship has close to run out, and keeping a human alive, especially with so many near death scenarios,” Lance practically growled, “yes, very taxing.”

Keith struggled to get up on his elbow and Lance couldn’t see his face but heard him spit something in Korean. Haggar chuckled and shook her hands out of her sleeves. Keith convulsed, slamming on his back.

Pidge surged forward, and Lance registered himself doing the same, bayards ablaze. She disappeared, voice echoing off the walls. Lance shoved his bayard into his pocket and knelt beside Keith, hands hesitating above him. Bruises, cuts, all different kinds of injuries were blooming all over him. He was still thrashing, so Lance couldn’t get a clear look but he knew the slash from his temple to below his cheekbone was new. “What the hell are you doing to him?!” Pidge shouted, turning to try and find her.

“Oh no,” sadistic, a cat who just caught a mouse under it’s paw, “it’s what I’ve done, paladin. I am just giving him back what I’ve taken away.”

★✩

**keith**

Cliché as fuck, I know. He'd been— what— four? Almost five? It'd been winter, at least, near his birthday. There was snow. He'd been holding his hand out the window to catch the falling flakes, held Ava in his lap so she could do the same. His class was going to have a holiday party that day.

It hadn't been the snow, by the way.

There was another hover, maybe another family running late; maybe some guy drunk into the hours of the morning even though it was Thursday. It'd been a hit and run. Keith never knew.

All he knew is that they were going twenty miles over the speed limit and they hit the right side of the hover head-on.

The sound of screeching metal on metal, glass shattering. A final exclamation from his dad and his mom's scream, " _St—"_  

Two seconds before they hit the ground. Two seconds. Keith was suspended in the air, the pieces of the hover hovering in his line of sight, whatever toy he'd had in hand bumping the seat. He'd known then. Even though he was four, bordering five, he knew this was going to change something. This was going to leave him a present, but the type that you wanted to return. A wound he had to sew up.

But he couldn't return it. And some injuries were too deep.

His parents died in a crash, and Keith was too.

**✩★**

**lance**

Lance didn’t know what to do. Sure, he was unorganized and unpredictable, but with things like this he liked having a plan. He liked knowing the situation was under control.

Currently, the situation was one hundred percent, certifiably _not_ under control. Keith had stopped. Completely. He was little more than breathing, and Lance felt the silence in his bones. There was something uprooting through his torso, growing out from his stomach, like those pictures of plants coming out of seeds. He didn’t know what planted it, but it did so with a vengeance. A hot, soaring feeling, curling around his ribs and his veins and his head.

“Keith,” Lance didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but he put a hand under Keith’s head, his other wrapped around his shoulders, and hauled him into his lap, “buddy, stay awake. Talk to me.” Blood smeared his suit. Keith groaned, leaning into him.

The competitive part of Lance’s mind (all 99.9% of it) said, _Who’s cradling who in who’s arms now?_

Ah, irony.

His breath hitched and Lance grappled for Keith’s wrist to find his pulse. Weak. “Pidge,” he whispered and she shifted on her knees, “we ha—“

Something being fumbled and Lance looked up. Hunk was fast walking towards them, the bag they’d brought to put Keith’s stuff in jangling as he did. Shiro came in hot pursuit after him, “Keith?”

They seemed to notice the blood when it splashed under their feet. Hunk stumbled, going green, “Wh—What—“

“Druids,” Shiro muttered sharply, hand buzzing faintly. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Very smart, Shirogane. You have not changed.”

Shiro whirled, glowing. Haggar wasn’t smiling. Hunk summoned his bayard, gulping heavily. They struck immediately. She multiplied all around them, hysterical. Lance gently set Keith back down and stood up, ignoring his side’s protest. Pidge did the same and they were a mismatched circle around him, weapons on the edge of firing.

A moment.

The copies were everywhere, forming line after line of druids. Her laugh multiplied to the point Lance couldn’t hear himself breath. He glanced back at Shiro. His jaw was set, a bead of sweat falling down his temple. There was the almost soundless movement of his mouth saying, “ _Go!”_

Lance shot off the ones immediately in front of him, parts of the cackling chorus going silent. They went out like TV static, breaking apart in thin lines. He turned on his heel to see two lowering in on Keith, who was curling in on himself, hands clawed over his ears and the lucid thought of Cascada’s voice chose to make an appearance _now._

Lance dispatched them, sliding over and trying to get a glimpse of Keith’s face, which was a canvas of red, blue, and purple. He was mouthing something, the same phrase and Lance could make it out now. The noise snapped off, and Lance thought maybe his ears popped. Haggar hissed and Lance looked in time to see Hunk catching her arm with his bayard.

He yelped and hastily blasted at her once again, and it caught her full in the chest as she went ghost. Hunk whooped before a bolt of darkness rammed into his leg, slamming him to the ground. He flipped on his hands and knees, wheezing. “Air—knocked—“

“It seems you present a bigger problem than I anticipated.” Lance fell back, simultaneously tightening his hold on Keith’s arm. She was standing right over them, flickering in and out of existence, golden light dripping from where Hunk had been able to finally shoot her.

The sound of everybody’s weapons training on her was unanimous. Lance gathered Keith closer to him. He was a bag of bones and blood.

“Do it then! If you actually care about your paladin,” she shot a look at Keith, in turn Lance, and her face turned viperous, cookie cutter smirk poised, “I should be ly—“

It was lots of things.

It was Hunk’s blast pushing her towards Pidge.

It was Pidge’s shock seizing her up.

It was Lance’s shot keeping her upright.

It was Shiro’s fist that drove through her chest. There was no telltale crunch or squelch, only the rustling fabric of the robe. But her eyes widened and a supernova went off in the room.

Lance’s shield summoned over them on it’s own accord.

✩★

_The light vibrated through him—_

✩★

Shiro killed Haggar. Lance didn’t think it’d quite clicked with him yet because he was already scooping the bag back up and putting his hand on Hunk’s shoulder, “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he straightened his headband, “I-I’m fine. Is—“

Keith whimpered, the noise vibrating into Lance’s arm. It was horrible. Lance got up carefully, keeping Keith in the ball he’d put himself in so that no more cuts could open enough to bleed profusely. He’d thought they’d seen his leg (or lack thereof) before, until Hunk made a disturbed squeak. His skin had gone through seven shades of pale, a shaky finger pointing, “She—He—“

“She was going to experiment on him.” Shiro folded his arms, metal under flesh, “I think she started expecting us not to come back.”

Lance exhaled sharply, “Slight miscalculation.”

✩★

The Galra were scrambling to find what their point of entry was because of the lions still flying outside contrasting with the guards that saw them with Haggar. Most were still on the lower levels, however, which made getting to the elevators easier. Keith felt lighter—emptier. He was losing so much blood.

✩★

Lance clambered in after Hunk, collapsing with Keith on the pile of medical blankets they’d laid out before coming. Hypothetically, they could’ve gone on the same lions they came in on, but all the medical supplies were in Yellow, and he sure as hell wasn’t leaving Keith now. Hunk zoomed into his seat, already frantically mumbling for Yellow to start powering up. Shiro called for Allura over the comms.

His breath hiccupped and Lance ignored the crusted mess over his ribs in favor of examining the damage. The uniform was a dark maroon from all the blood it’d absorbed, making it nearly impossible to spot where anything specific was. He swallowed down the vile coming up in his throat and grabbed the surgical scissors to cut away the shirt, pushing it off his shoulders.

Deep, claw-like cuts all over his chest, one so deep Lance thought he could almost see the beginnings of a broken rib. There were burn marks over the lacerations, bruises the size of his fist, indents where there should’ve been bones holding up the skin.

“Jesus Christ.” He pressed one hand over his mouth, the other holding the knot on his makeshift bandage.

Hunk came into his peripheral vision, and Lance realized they’d taken off, “Hey, I put Yellow on auto—“ he stopped, making an alarmed noise, “Oh my—Keith. Is he—what’s—“

“P-Pulse,” Lance finally untied the sleeve, pressing the heel of his hand to keep it closed while he grabbed the real bandages, “pulse is weak, but there. His breathing’s irregular, and I think he might have a punctured lung from that rib being broken inwards. How're you after the toss?"

“The ribs _again_. And, like, three bruises but, I'm good apart from that," he took a once over of Keith and frowned, "I don’t think we can use the healing pods for this, Lance,” he murmured, reaching for the disinfectant and kneeling on Keith’s other side. Lance looked up sharply, almost dropping the roll. “I mean, yeah, we can, for most of the worst injuries. But we need to set the broken bones so they don’t heal badly and try to sew up the bigger cuts so they don’t scar.”

Lance nodded, tightening the bandage, “You paid attention to Coran’s pod sermon.”

“You know I’m clumsy, man.”

“…yeah,” so quiet, almost inaudible, “super.”

They both startled and Keith opened his eyes barely a sliver, more than Lance that the bruises along his cheeks allowed. Lance looked up at Hunk then back down, giving a short laugh, “She banged you up good, didn’t she?” Keith gave a slow exhale. “You need to stay awake now, got it? Don’t pussy out on us right now.”

He slurred out a low sure.

Hunk nodded at Lance, getting out the towel to soak in the disinfectant. “Not gonna sugarcoat it here,” he said, poised on the worst damage, “this is gonna sting like a beast. Hold on to something.”

And Lance wasn’t sure if it was near-death fogging up Keith’s head, or the fact that he still couldn’t see clearly, but his hand immediately wen searching, weakly groping around until it found Lance’s and squeezed. His grip was loose. If Hunk saw it, he didn’t react, because he set his expression and went to work.

The second it touched his skin, Keith hissed, back arching, then immediately going down at the wounds opening fresh. Hunk shook his arms out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Keep still!”

Keith’s eyes were shut again, so Lance leaned closer, pulling his head half on his lap. “So like,” he motioned for Hunk to continue, “I get you might hate me a little bit. And that’s okay. But I need you to focus, okay? Like I said, no pussying out on me.

“Talk to me.” His ragged nails dug into Lance’ s wrist as Hunk swiped of right around the puncture.

Lance had to have his ear to Keith’s mouth to hear, “’Bout what?”

“Anything. Everything. Whatever you want.”

“I—“ the less swollen of his eyes strained open, a forced tear running down his temple, “i—it hurts.”

Lance pretended that didn’t strike something, “What… what hurts?”

“Anything… Everything. Whatever she wanted.”

“Keith…”

“N—Not a knife. Magic. All of it. Not real.”

Hunk squeezed out the towel, light red dripping into the bowl next to him, “What? What’s not real, Keith?”

He almost chuckled, “This. The rescue. Y—You.”

_What the fuck did she do to you?_

“No, Keith,” Lance attempted to smile, “I’m real. This is real.”

“Hmm,” Keith hummed like, he believed him, but it went low as Hunk applied pressure to one area, almost finished, “you’re bleeding,” his head fell in the direction of Lance’s gauze, “you always bleed. Then I wake up.”

“No waking up. You’re awake right now,” Lance didn’t even touch what he was implying yet, “I’m bleeding because one of the Galra shot me outside of your cell.”

Keith looked pensive.

Hunk dropped the towel and cracked his knuckles, adjusting his hair behind his headband, “Oh jeez, okay… I have to… Lance, help me hold his shoulder in place to pop it back.” Lance shimmied back, the top of Keith’s head still touching his knees, and untwined their hands to lightly hold him down from his collarbone. “You want to bite down on something?”

“Got used to holding back screams.”

 _Fuck_. Lance bit his tongue, closing his eyes tight before fixing them on a spot on the wall. Hunk counted three and shoved the bone back in the socket. Keith barely flinched, but the twitch of his eyebrow gave him away. Hunk moved to go on the other but Keith shook his head, “Don’t—she disintegrated it the first day. Don’t bother.”

“A—Alright… I can’t do your ribs, but—Lance can you check if there’s anything we can fix without medical equipment? I’m gonna comm Coran and start preparing for landing.”

Lance nodded.

Lance did not know how to check for bones that needed setting. He was absent on some of the medical training days in the Garrison on account of his abuela having a surgery to remove a tumor. Was it just… poking around? Or something?

“Look for swollen areas,” Keith mumbled, words crawling over his cracked lips, “touch them, I’ll tell you if it hurts or not.”

“Is reading minds an acquired skill?”

“Y’ have that stupid face you get when you’re thinking,” Keith said flatly.  _There it is._

Lance scoffed, “Stupid-ly _beautiful_ , maybe.”

“Yeah,” and maybe Lance was crazy, because the expected sarcasm wasn’t heavy, “sure.”

So fine, Lance examined. All of Keith’s visible body was puffed from the inflammation, but he watched for anything overly purple, wrapping on any unaffected areas as he went. When he saw a small bump protruding through his left thigh, dread pitted his stomach. Lance barely touched it and Keith kicked his foot, “There.”

” _Ya veo.._.”  he leaned back on his heels to run a hand through his hair, _“M_ _ierrda_.  I have to push it back into place. Gonna count down from three again,” he positioned both hands over the bump, hovering centimeters away, and he was hyperaware of Keith’s good hand quietly closing over Lance’s ankle. _Alright, this is fine_. _I’m_ fine. “Okaybraceyourself, three tw—“ he pushed both hands down fast, wincing at the crack of the bone and the cry Keith made.

“That was _not_ three!”

“It’s better when you don’t anticipate it!”

“Like hell!"

Hunk shouted over his shoulder, "We're here. Start getting ready, Coran's down there with the gurney ready.

The hand was still on Lance's ankle. Then it wasn't. _Keith's hands are weird without gloves_ , Lance thought as he helped him up, opting out of the bridal carry when Keith shot him a Look. It somehow comforted him, because that was  ~~his~~ Keith. Not dreamy (not in that way), not delirious. Not talking about how the rescue wasn't real, or having nightmares of Lance dying.

They hobbled off the lion, Lance half-limping because of his side, and Keith... well, Keith. He did a little hop to sit on the gurney, leg hanging over the side. Coran looked like wanted to hug him but minded the injuries, squeezing his good shoulder (he seemed to have a 'good' now. Good hand, good shoulder, good leg... only leg...) (too soon?). Allura did not mind the injuries and did immediately hug him, and, no Lance was  _not_ jealous, thank you very much. It was the same deal as Hunk and Shiro, taking a moment for them to see what was right in front of them. Then it was silent.

Coran determined that there was nothing they could do because of the way the injuries were inflicted. That the pods would most everything, and anything it could, they would try tending with the supplies they had. So they let Keith change into the medical suit that made the healing pods more efficient, Lance and Hunk doing the same, before they all went inside and it closed. There was the moment of consciousness before Lance froze, where he heard a voice in his head sigh, rejoice;  _Keith's safe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yup, gonna start making chapters longer, cause who needs continuity, right?
> 
> more on ava later.
> 
> Let's talk about cryptids  
> Twitter: [@hivekyu](https://twitter.com/hivekyu)  
> Tumblr: [@paladon-t](http://paladon-t.tumblr.com/)


	8. You're A Mess, Kogane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> like steve rogers
> 
> just kinda bustin open that punching bag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i once did what keith does in this chapter. not fun.
> 
> Im sorry I took so long yall. Im tryna my best now!! 
> 
> More importantly: Hunks bday!! My son!!1 18 years old!!!! A big boy!
> 
>  **Warning:** Pidge curses a lot in this one. She's a pissed off fourteen year old girl. She curses a lot.

  **lance**

"—and kept it for two years until the occasion just so happened that Matt brought his girlfriend home. I swore I'd do it, and I don't break promises."

"Are you actually the antichrist?"

 _Berga, esta friisimo. Quien--_ Lance shook the ice crystals out of his hair, shaking the fuzz out of his head with it,  _Who turned up the AC?_  He went to pull his jacket tighter around him and opened his eyes, almost falling on his face as he stumbled out of the pod. He gave a snort of alarm and Hunk and Pidge turned around, jumping. There were three glasses of water on the table.

_Oh. Right._

"Hey, dude," Hunk said, handing him the fullest glass, "how you feeling?"

Lance took a sip and gave a full body shiver, "Like the Titanic while it sank. Does it really have to be that cold?"

"Cryogenic  _freezing_ , Lance," Pidge answered knowingly, "it's right there in the name. You're just picky because a gust of strong wind could give you frostbite."

"Listen," he held up a hand and downed the rest of the water, ready to Rant. But then he

remembered Keith. He held the glass tighter, smile dropping. Hunk noticed (Hunk always notices, bless his soul) and gave a soft look, pointing, "He's fine, Lance. I mean, as fine as he can be..."

So Lance followed his finger. Keith was in the chamber next to him; that happened. His face was carved out of marble, dark eyelashes resting on high cheekbones, all tinged turquoise from the screen. The suit was practically a second skin, and Lance could see everything. Every little bruised bump, the raised scar Lance knew was slashed across his abdomen. He felt like the dwarves seeing Snow White through the glass coffin. There was a kind of haunting feeling, a beauty--

A beauty...

His hand was pressed up against the generated plastic before he knew what he was doing. He pulled it away slower than intended.

_Get it together, Lance. Who the hell says beauty anymore? Old ladies. Abuelito. That's who._

He cringed inwardly.

"You've been out a little more than two days. We're already mocking up some designs for a prosthetic," Pidge said, pointing at the mess of papers on the table between them, "Shiro let us use his as inspiration."

"Except, y'know," Hunk waved a hand in the air, "less kill-y. We're using Altean manipulated quintessence. We could use your help, once you start feeling better."

Lance nodded, turning toward them, "Yeah, yeah. Let me shower and get changed and we can start right now."

Hunk scowled, "I'm serious about that feeling better thing, Lance."

"I'm  _peachy_. Radiant, even. Be back in  _un momento_." He snapped his fingers into double pistols and winked, walking backwards until he reached the hallway and bounded to his room. He ripped off the suit and kicked it into his dirty clothes pile, running his hands up and down his arms to get the medical smell off. God, he hated healing. Not the process, obviously. He didn't bleed out, which was pretty nice. But coming out felt disgusting and awful and  _blegh_. 

He grabbed his towels (yes, multiple; his hair needed to dry off too), and padded over to the showers. There was still the musty feeling of steam that told him that somebody had been here recently. He caught a glimpse of himself in the small mirror he'd added to the wall and winced. There were bags under his eyes and he looked pale despite the heat.

Stress really wasn't a good look on him. But he really shouldn't be complaining; Keith was still in a pod, missing a  _limb._ He shook his head and hung both towels, jumping into the automatic stream. It felt like days when there were rainstorms and he and his siblings sneaked outside to play in the rain. Lance would take off his coat to let it soak through his clothes, smiling up at the churning sky.

He ran a hand through his hair, grabbing for his avocado and shea butter shampoo (he always had his skin and hair care bags in his jacket, so he'd had the chance to bring it on the castle)(not so stupid now, huh, Pidge?). The events on the ship came back slowly, just as he was lathering the bubbles out.

Keith's voice, Keith's whimpers, Keith's eyes.

Weak, painful, hollow—

That wasn't Keith. Keith wasn't any of those things. Keith was rash, brooding, and  _fire_. Unpredictable just on the wrong side of dangerous, giving a sense of comfort until you got too close, and then you—

Well, you burn.

And Lance felt like he was on the edge of a wildfire. The moment Keith'd been taken, something he'd stuffed in the back of his head to die was being dragged out, kicking and screaming. Because whatever was constricting around his heart right now was doing it with a vengeance, like,  _Oh, thought you could get rid of me? Surprise, bitch._

'Cause Lance knew crushes. Obviously. He didn't need to explain it. He thought it was  _just_  a crush at first. Lance knew he dug guys as well as girls so apart from the fact that it was  _him_ , he didn't really pay it much thought. It was his eyes and the graceful swing of his sword through a simulation he'd seen earlier that week. He'd taken a deep breath.

 _He's your_ rival.  _Anger and... whatever was there were basically the same thing. Right? It's just some kind of confusion._

Then he went and fucked up. He just  _had_  to laugh at something Lance'd said, some stupid pun or hand motion he couldn't quite remember because it was overshadowed by the tiny snorts in his laugh, his nose scrunched up, one hand held to his mouth. Lance, swear to God, Lance passed out for a full second. But the seed was planted, and tried as he might, he could not pull it out. So he shoved it all in a Tupperware container, put that in a box, and duct taped it all in a far corner of his mind, right alongside the time he'd gone to school in his pajamas because his older sister'd told him it was Pajama Day (spoiler alert: it hadn't been)(screw you, Lupe)(just kidding, love you sis)(don't tell mama I said that).

Point is: that hadn't worked. Because fuck Lance McClain especially.

So he pretended it was something he could still control. It really wasn't. He was water not earth; certainly not fire. And he still didn't even know what the hell It  _was_. 

He realized this was the second time he'd put on the exfoliating face mask. He rubbed it off and gets out. 

He usually liked taking showers, but they were really against him these days. Forget I said anything.

✩★

 "Alright," Lance clapped and rubbed his hands together, drinking in the absolute chaos that is Pidge and Hunk's work station, "let's start building ourselves a leg."

Pidge pressed a button on the wall and a platform rose up on the table with a half finished metal calf, the skeleton of the rest of the piece done, "We already started. I want to see if we can get it done before Keith wakes up."

"Yeah." Hunk dropped all the blueprints and spread one out, glancing at the leg, then back, adjusting a measurement, "Sorta like a, 'Welcome back from being kidnapped by a tyrannical alien race'."

Lance made a noncommital noise and walked over, examining the workings of the thing close, "Looks lightweight. Did you—"

"We took readings from the pod of his weight now versus before," Pidge muttered and went rummaging through a bin, her entire upper body swallowed up by the various parts, "and we're trying to match up the difference so his balance won't be that far off. But we can't really get exact. This is advanced technology, but it's, if anything,  _too_  good. Our calculations have it at two pounds too light."

Ah. He touched the thin wires used to mimic the bones of a person's foot. Keith's foot. It felt really weird. He shook his hand out and looked up at Hunk, "Did you try using the heavier piping? You could meld it into a structural shape so it'll be like actual bones. That could be at least half a pound."

Hunk tapped his stylus against his chin and nodded, "You're right."

Pidge's arm appeared, waving a silver box, victorious, "Got the alloy! Catch, Lance, I'll see if I can find the piping."

He did and set it on the table, shrugging off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, "Let's get this show on the road."

✩★

"It would be much easier to make jokes about this if he'd lost his arm. We could call this a handjo—"

"Lance, I'm going to throw this fucking wrench at your head if your mouth takes one more goddamn syllable."

✩★

It took four full generated days to finish. They, at least Lance, slept a total of eleven hours in that time. He was tired, his body ached, and there was grease under his nails, but he'd never been better. It was pristine (not for long, they assumed, because it was  _Keith_ ), plates barely visible against each other. The leg had twin routes of blue quintessence running up the sides. It was supposed to replace the nerve transplant method and just meld Keith's endings with the metal, so he could get accustomed to it faster.

The problem here was it took four days, and it had been six in total, and Keith still wasn't budging. Somebody (maybe Lance, who knew) had had the idea to start taking night shifts in case Keith woke up in the middle of the night and nobody was there to help him back to his room. So somebody (again, maybe Lance, you can't be sure) volunteered to do it. Without telling anybody else.

In case you didn't know: it was Lance.

He was sleeping on the floor, foregoing his nighttime mask since he was starting to run out and only used it an especially bad days. He had to curl up to preserve body heat but he was a good friend, right? Worth it.

Something dug into his spine and he reached to smack away one of the bolts Pidge dropped all over the place.

_So worth it._

✩★

A hiss of something startled him awake. He blearily opened his eyes, snorting, " _Que paso..."_ A cold mist obscured his vision and he rubbed at his face, sitting up. Floor. Cold air. Keith. 

Lance stumbled to his feet and wrapped the blanket around him. The gas thinned out and Lance could see the pale outline, dark hair stark against it. He tentatively stepped forward and put his hands on Keith's biceps to guide him out, catching him when he immediately slumped. He was cool to the touch and Lance half-dropped him on his nest of pillows, covering him with the blanket instead. "Keith...?"

His eyelashes fluttered.

Lance was aware that he was staring, trying to take everything in.There was an extremely narrow scar running the length of his face, until just under his cheekbone; the bags under his eyes looked sucker-punched in. And Lance could spot, right on the curl of his bangs, a thin stripe of white. He exhaled a word, barely audible, "Lance..." Opened his eyes, blinking slowly, something flashing on his face, "Lance. Lance? Where is everybody? Are they okay? Are you—"

"It's, like, four am, dude," Lance couldn't help smiling, "Everybody's fine, just sleeping. I, uh... I took the night shift. In case you woke up."

"You..." One hand came up, touched Lance's wrist where it was holding his arms, then up to Keith's head, pressing the heel of his hand to his temple, "Jesus, my head... how long?"

"A little more than six days."

He winced and pulled the blanket closer to him.  ~~Lance wanted to warm him up, hold him close, tell him to never did that shit again~~. Lance let go of his arms, bracing his hands on the ground, "I could go wake everybody—"

"No, don't," Keith said quickly. "Please. Don't." They said nothing.

Until Keith did, more to himself than anything, "I need to go to my room. I'll sleep, take a shower in the morning, and figure everything out. I just... I can't have everybody right now. Thank you for... thank you. But I really..."

"It's okay. I get it," he started getting up, "I'll help you back."

"I don't need y—" It was kind of like when the teacher curses at some kid in class and the air feels like it's been sucked out of the room. Everything's just hollow.

Lance watched the painful process of Keith inhaling sharply, reaching for his knee and closing around where it cut off. He gave a low, scoffing 'oh'. "Fine. Yeah, help me over, Lance."

"Gee," he snorted, "don't sound so happy about it there, buddy."

"Oh, excuse me," his voice was dripping acid, burning holes in Lance's sheets, "I didn't know I had to sound excited about needing you to walk me back to my own room because my fucking leg was chopped off."

Lance stuttered, "I'm—"

"If you say sorry," Keith seethed, pushing himself back on the pod to straighten himself upright, "I'm kicking you in the face with my stump."

He put his hands up defensively and stood up, "Alright, alright, chill. I won't even carry you this time, pri—"

"Yeah. Definitely him." Keith muttered and held out a hand. Lance took it, wrapping his arm over his shoulders. Keith pushed off and went flush with Lance's side. Still cold.

★✩

**keith**

He was so warm. In every sense. Keith pretended he didn't notice the small grin on Lance's face whenever he glanced at him, barely there, but radiant.

So, so radiant.

✩★

**lance**

Keith refused to be picked up this time. Every thump had Lance having to take an extra breath, just to keep from screaming. Only the thought of Pidge's rage kept him from going over and shoving the prosthetic on him right now. Keith tried to walk alone for a hot second, and actually succeeded four steps before he keeled backwards. He dropped Keith off on his bed.

"They're my drawers! You can't just  _rummage—"_

"And  _you_  can't sleep in the medical suit. It's sweaty and chemical-y and—" Lance shot a look back, "Do you seriously have  _no_ pajamas? Really?"

"Uh, no?"

Lance sniffed, "What the hell do you sleep in then?"

"My clothes?"

"Like..." he took a deep breath and slowly turned, "the ones you wear? Everyday?"

Keith rose an eyebrow, "Uh, yeah? Like, I just get into my bed—"

"Oh my god," Lance pretended to heave, "oh my actual  _god._ What kinda  _heathen— do you even take your_  shoes  _off—"_

"No _— fuck_ , Lance, just let me go to  _sleep_."

Lance shook his head, grabbing a random shirt and boxers. Wow. He had a— a  _situation_ for this guy. He threw it at him and pointed, "I'm getting you pajamas, a robe, socks, and slippers. You're not sleeping like that anymore. What a mess."

"Lance—"

"A  _mess_ , Kogane," he pinched the air with both hands when he said mess, exaggerating his facial features, "you're a mess. Nobody under my space roof is doing this. The only excuse is Shiro and at least  _he_  has designated tank tops."

Keith fell back and motioned sharply to the door, "Kindly fuck off, please."

Lance swung his hips as he left, a lá Tyra, "You're, what, a medium? Red'll work well with your skin tone, but cool tones could are more unexpected, a nice purple maybe—"

"Fuck  _off_ , Lance."

"Good night to you to," Lance flashed one last smile, goodness spreading through his chest despite himself, "sweet dreams, Keith."

So, maybe he  _blushed_  a little bit, but Lance chalked it up to... eh, got nothing. It couldn't have been what he  _wanted_ it to be, is what I'm saying.

"Stop saying it like that, asshole."

Lance waggled his eyebrows as the doors closed, repeating, "Sweet dreams~"

He fell asleep the minute he hit the mattress despite the disgusting cocktail of worry and happiness sloshing around his gut.

★✩

**keith**

It wasn't crying yourself to sleep if it'd only been one tear, right? And involuntary at that. Keith put on the stupid clothes, he threw the stupid suit to who the fuck cares, and laid on his stupid, scarred side. 

One tear. That was it.

✩★

**lance**

He was used to it being loud in the mornings. He grew up with four other siblings, along with his cousins. Surprisingly, little noises were more likely to wake him up than big. Some sorta reverse psychology.

But, oh no.

No, he ever anticipated the capacity at which Hunk's vocal range could go. Dude was a C6 soprano, at best. What of this sudden revelation that his best friend had a very high pitch? Well, it had to do with the fact that Lance was launched off his bed to Hunk screeching, " _Have you seen Keith?!"_

Lance hit his shoulder against the wall and groaned, his arm at an awkward angle above his head, "Yes, in my dreams, you just missed him. 'S riding a giant inflatable dolphin—"

"Dude,  _seriously,_ " his voice was panicky and Lance imagined him bouncing from foot to foot like he always did, "he wasn't in the pod this morning."

"'S probably," he yawned and flipped on his back, stretching all his limbs, "in the showers or somethin'. Did you really have to throw me off—"

"I thought maybe he was in there with you—"

Lance's eyes snapped open, " _Hunk_ —"

"And you don't look all that surprised to hear he's out," that was his reporter voice, the one he used to get information out of people, "Lance—"

He scrambled to stand, grabbing a shirt off the ground, "Have you checked the hangar yet? He hasn't seen Red in awhile." They speed walked there, and Lance noticed nobody else was shoving people out of their beds. "Hunk... where's everybody else?"

"Asleep probably. I found Pidge in the tool box and tried waking her up but she just kind of..." he shivered, "melted into the pile. It was terrifying."

"So you only thought of disturbing  _my_  beauty sleep?"

"Yup."

Keith wasn't in the hangar. Or the showers. Or the training room, surprisingly. 

He was, however, in the kitchen, sitting on the counter, nursing a small cup of  _Coffee_  (they pronounced it like that, with italics. It wasn't human caffeine, obviously, but after saving an extremely tall species, they allowed them to take a herb with similar effect)(again,  _tall_  species)(caffein to body ratio. Do the math when Lance brewed a normal mug). His damp hair was in a half-undone bun atop his head.

Hunk gave an ungodly screech and rushed towards him, enveloping him in one of his signature bear hugs. Keith noticed him a second to late, the coffee cup barely making it to rest on the counter. Lance barked out a laugh at Keith's expression, one hand going to pat Hunk on the back but settling around it instead, "Hey, Hunk."

"Dude!" He wailed, picking him up and swinging him side to side. 

Lance's smile was hurting his cheeks, "Hunk, buddy, I don't think he's breathing."

"I'm doing him a favor," He put Keith down and wiped at his cheeks, honking his nose on a napkin, "if I kill him, Pidge n' Shiro won't have a chance to." Keith's eyes widened a fraction and Hunk attempted to put on a stern face, "Yeah, you're  _never_  pulling shit like that again. I'm  _pissed_. Just— Don't  _look_  at me right now."

"Aw, look what you did Keith," Lance went over and smoothed a hand over his best friend's shoulder, "Hunk's  _cursing_. That's how you know you fu—"

"And it's a bad influence on Lance! He almost got me ki—"

Lance clamped the opposite hand over his mouth, "I  _said_  I was  _sorry!_  Besides, it wasn't even— the two events are  _unrelated—"_

"Sure, yeah, uh huh," Hunk pried him away, "sounds fake but okay." 

Keith picked his coffee back up and gave a short sip. He looked like he was ready to bolt out in order to escape any further Hunk Thrashing, but, well... actually...

Lance rose an eyebrow, squinting, "How did you even get over here, man? Didn't you hear us calling you?"

"Yes," Keith deadpanned,"but I just heard you, so I assumed it was for a stupid reason."

"Wow, rude."

He rolled his eyes and went to drink more of his coffee. Hunk started on breakfast, tasking Lance with grabbing all the plates and cups. They idly talked while they worked, Hunk firing questions at Keith from every which way. At one point, Lance had to wildly make cutting motions against his throat so Hunk could stop. Hunk's people skills were off the charts, but he hadn't really mastered the art of noticing when he'd finally started pushing the envelope. 

He noticed him and stopped halfway through a sentence, switching gears, "...and uh... hey, do you like your pancakes with or without the, er, berries from Ueturn? They aren't blueberries, taste more like cherries, but if you warm them up it's more rasberry-ish."

Keith blinked at the change and glanced over his shoulder at Lance, who rearranged himself to have one elbow leaning on the counter, examining a berry. He spoke slowly, "Yeah, Hunk, I'll eat anything."

"Huh," Hunk batted Lance's hand away from the bowl and put in the berries, "bet the food at the prison was disgusting. I remember this one time I sneaked into the kitchens on a mission to see if they had any prisoners working there, tried this weird fuzzy looking chicken nugget, and threw up in the... sink, I think. Not sure. Did you have anything like that?"

A heavy silence followed. Keith's finger twitched and Lance had the overwhelming urge to... I don't know. To  _help_  him. Instead he froze, inwardly cursing himself for not factoring Hunk's importance on food. "I... I actually didn't... eat? While I was there?"

Hunk straight up dropped his spatula. He moved faster than Lance'd ever seen him, face suddenly inches away from Keith's. Despite his cat-like reflexes, Keith did  _not_  see it coming and he yelped, falling back. 

"What do you mean you  _didn't. Eat. Anything?"_

Keith gulped, "I honestly don't want to answer that."

"How are you," he pulled back, putting his arms out forward straight to point at him, "alive? Why didn't you tell me this earlier? Crap, right, you were unconscious. Just—  _Dude—"_

"Keith?"

They all looked at the doorway. Pidge still looked half-asleep, her hair a complete mess, (fake!) glasses not even on. She was dazed for a second, giving Keith the chance to give the same greeting he gave Hunk.

Of course, that was before she was, y'know,  _attacking_ him. She got three good punches in before Hunk was able to grapple her around the middle, prying her off. "I'm going to fucking  _murder_  you, Kogane! What the  _shit_  was  _that,_ you  _dumbass?_ Is there some kind of motherfucking faulty  _wiring in your system—"_

_"Pidge, chill!"_

"Katie Holt, language!" She hissed and made to claw at Hunk's eyes but he grabbed her by the back of her shirt and put her on the opposite side of the room, cocking his head at Lance, "Block Keith."

Lance did, stifling the bout of laughter rising in his throat. Keith's  _face._

"—and what the  _fuck_  was that?! You fucking  _threw_  me into fucking  _space—"_

"I was, I mean," he shook out his head and crawled back to kneel on the counter, drawing up his full height and pointing at her, "I was  _saving you—"_

She stood up instead, stomping her foot, "And what kinda  _emo ass anime bullshit_ was _that—"_

"They got me and we all saw how  _that_  turned out—"

"So fucking  _what?! We're all in this together—"_

(And, yes, it did take all of Lance's self control to not start singing.)

"That's from High School Musical right? Don't quote  _High School Musical at me right now, Pidge—"_

 _"I thought you were fucking dead! I thought I'd fucking killed you!"_ Hunk widened his eyes at Lance, as if he couldn't see Pidge crying five feet in front of him. She didn't really notice when she cried. Tears just bordered on her bottom eyelashes and her face going red, but apart from that she stayed as angry as before.

"You saw what happened to me, Pidge! You saw what fucking happened! How do you think— If  _you_  had gone missing—"

She snarled, "Oh, don't start that shit with me, Keith! Don't you  _fucking_  dare! You  _did_  go missing, and we were a  _mess_. Lance almost got himself and Hunk killed," now was so not the time to object, "Allura passed out giving up energy to fuel the tracking system, and—" she roughly did away with the tears, "and I thought I'd lost another... you're not Matt, but you're my friend. You're our  _teammate_. What the  _hell_."

Lance felt Keith slump behind him, "I wasn't thinking, Pidge, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, no. I don't really believe you have the capability of thought at this point." She jumped down, Hunk cautiously tailing her. Lance put his hands up and gave a half-shuffle to the side, still giving Keith some kind of body guard. She gave a small smirk, but ignore him in favor of raising her pinky at Keith, "This is dumb as shit, but swear to me you'll never throw me into space and let yourself get captured by Galra again."

"Pidge—"

" _Swear."_

He linked their little fingers and, wow, was Lance getting jealous of a fourteen year old girl? No. No, he wasn't. "I swear I'll never throw you into space and let myself get captured by Galra again. There, happy?"

"Ecstatic."

✩★

It wasn't until later, after Shiro woke up and arrived (He didn't kill him, as Hunk anticipated. He did hug Keith, and probably whisper something in his ear, because this total terror had taken over Keith's face. Lance did  _not_  want to know what it was), when they were halfway through eating, that Pidge suddenly dropped her utensils, wrenched Lance out of his seat, and whisked him out of the dining room. He still had a chunk of pancake he'd been ripping into dangling from his mouth, protests muffled around it. She shoved him into the workroom and slammed the doors shut.

He swallowed down the pancake, "What?"

"I made modifications last night," she spoke quickly, like she did when she was explaining shit Lance wouldn't even dream of understanding, "I added a hidden compartment on the calf and a concentration of the quintessence all down the bottom, toes, and heel of the foot. I also need to," she put a hand out so the computer screen could come up, "get the final data from his stay in the pod out. Just to make sure everything's good. And that it's compatible..."

"This is why we can't leave you around here for too long. You get  _picuky."_ He pulled his hand back when the quintessence fired up. It was the reassuring cyan of the rest of the ship. "It's pretty cool though."

She nodded absentmindedly and looked back and forth between the readings and the prosthetic, "Maybe a small blaster—"

"Oh god,  _no_. He's already threatened to kick me in the face. Pidge, it's perfect. You're overthinking this."

"Nah," she grabbed a rag and scrubbed off a stray splash of oil, "I just think Keith would appreciate being able to launch a laser up your nose."

Lance scoffed but didn't answer. "Are we just gonna... give it to him? Shouldn't we get H—"

"I'm here!" He same barreling through the door, "I'm here! Allura woke up and everything was fine until she started trying to decapitate him with a spork. Shiro's got her restrained. So we're giving him the leg now, right?"

"Uh," Lance glanced at Pidge, "I think?"

Pidge nodded, "Yeah. We can't wait too long or  _somebody_ ," she avoided looking at Hunk, "might just let it spill."

"I—" He flapped a hand, "I can't even deny that. Come  _on,_ I'm excited! Are we doing a final check?"

"I did one before going into the kitchen earlier. And the moniter comes up..." She squinted at the screen and tapped the ankle, "ship shape. I'm still adamant on the toe rockets—"

"What—"

"No. No toe rockets. As sick as that would be, I have a feeling it'll be less cool when coming directly at  _me_. Let's just take it over there. We'll hide it behind Hunk."

"I'll take it," Pidge said, but when she went to lift it it weighed her arms down with an 'oof'. Lance helped her hold it and nudged Hunk to start walking. It wasn't  _that_  heavy, but Lance'd have to dangle Keith over a pit of lava sharks (long story), so this was that divided by four.

They weren't really noticed when they came in because Coran had Keith in a headlock like hug, sobbing into his hair. He sent a pleading look at Shiro, to do something presumably. He shrugged, smirking. 

"Is this a bad time?" Hunk asked, visibly biting his cheek to keep from laughing. Shiro cocked up an eyebrow and pointed at Lance and Pidge, then his right leg. They nodded. 

Allura was sitting opposite of Keith, drinking a dark blue thing thicker than cement, and of the same acidity as gasoline (Lance leanred this the hard way) that was supposed to be the Altean version of tea. She noticed and gasped, putting down her mug, "Oh no, this is the  _perfect!_ Coran, let go of him please."

He did, very reluctantly, "Our paladin's back! I'm treasuring him."

"Yes, well, I believe our other paladins have something to aid in that. Perhaps we should allow them?"

"What— Oh. Oh  _right_. Yes, correct!"

Keith, being the only one out of the limbo (obviously), looked vaguely confused, "What are you guys talking about?"

(Okay, so this is what they'd  _planned_  on doing:

Big introduction along with an unveiling, some confetti, preferably getting Keith to cry from gratitude or something. Lance thought he'd seen Pidge shove a medium-sized fire cracker up her shirt.

This is what  _really_  happened.)

"We built you a leg,"  ~~said~~  blurted Hunk

"Hunk, oh my  _god,"_  groaned Lance

"I told you he'd fucking spill!" shouted Pidge

"Pidge, language!" Take a wild guess.

There was general cacophony, Pidge arguing with Shiro, Hunk apologizing more than seventeen times, and Lance left with the task of hiding the  _metal leg_. Like where was he gonna put it with Hunk moving around? Up his—

"Hey!" And, yeah,  _thanks_  Keith. Geez, this thing was getting heavy. They all shut up. He squinted at them, "Did Hunk just say you built me a leg?"

"Maybe. Just a little bit," he winced and looked down at his feet, Lance, and finally Keith again, "you didn't honestly think we were going to let you— I mean—wait, that sounds bad—"

Pidge stepped forward, "You could've functioned just without it. Having or not having doesn't really matter. But we're nice people with too much time on our hands. So here," she jerked her head at Lance, like he was some kind of Disney henchman. He voiced this opinion to her and she winked.

You're lucky I love you, sister.

He, as ceremoniously as the situation allowed, put the prosthetic on the table. Keith's jaw dropped. Shiro reached out, touching the chamber line where the quintessence would run, "Guys..."

Coran fanned his face, "It's an engineering masterpiece! I didn't even know we had these kinds of parts on the ship!"

"We got, uh," Hunk pulled at his collar, pretending he didn't notice the lack of knives in the dining room, "creative."

"I assumed the quintessence was for tools," Allura murmured, "it was... here, correct? How did you manage to keep it in?"

"We kind of reverse engineered Shiro's arm."

"I gave it to you guys for not even half an hour."

Lance jerked a thumb next to him as Pidge waggled her fingers, "Pidge's got the magic touch."

As if triggered, everybody looked up toward Keith at once. He had managed to close his mouth but was still staring, entire body subtly leaning toward it. Shiro pushed it over to him. He took it tentatively, pulling it closer to him. His eyes were moving over it so fast, Lance was afraid they would roll out of his head.

Finally, lightyears later (Pidge Edit:lightyears measure distance not time, fuckass), he said, "Can I... put it on?"

"Oh god," Hunk wheezes, sagging, "I thought you didn't like it or something— Yeah, man, come on, I'll help you."

So ensued another three and a million lightyears (Pidge Edit: s2g lance) of wait after realizing nobody brought the adapter that connected everything or the stump sock... thing. He honestly had no real name for it. Hunk and Pidge'd said it, he just wasn't paying attention. There were more questions from the mechanics and sematics and other 'ics' that he let Pidge answer with gusto because he had every single crossable thing crossed that it  _worked._

Because, sure, he was confident it did. They were the Garrison's top of the class. They kicked ass at shit like this hands tied behind their back, blindfolded, and asleep. But, hey, sue him for being a  _little_ bit anxious since this was something Keith'd be using, presumably, everyday. 

Wow, that was seriously helping himself, thank you, Lance. He pinched the back of his hand lightly.

Lance heard the mention of his name and immediately objected, "Yet,  _who_  was the one that almost made us have to start over because she tried to throw the exoskeleton at me?"

"If you hadn't been singing  _Bad Romance_  so loud, I wouldn't have to have a reason to chuck it, now would I?"

"If  _you_  appreciated  _good music—"_

"Who's like a," Hunk said loudly from behind the open door, "superhero or something with a metal leg? I was gonna say the Winter Solider, but we already have Shiro—" Shiro made a noise, "—and I couldn't think of... I mean, Starfox, maybe. Or Hershel—"

Pidge shouted, "Hunk, what are you  _up_  to? Come out!"

"Alright, okay. I just wanted to be cute."

"You're always cute, Hunk."

"Aw, thanks, L—"

" _Seriously."_

Hunk's head bobbed from the door, "You could stand to be a little bit more patient, Pidge. Seriously."

She blew a rasberry at him, as per mature clap back.

Coran was actually vibrating. There was a small  _thump_ , Keith saying something lowly. Hunk snorted.

He stepped into view, focus trained on his feet. Lance grabbed Pidge's arm and she didn't even bat him away.  _It fit, at least._ He walked a bit more, arms straight out, more on a tightrope than solid ground. Not gonna lie: it looked pretty cool. 

He reached the table, putting both hands to brace himself on the side. Shiro put his hand on Keith's shoulder, "How is it?"

"I haven't..." he poked his tongue into his cheek and looked up, "actually used my legs for the time I was over there. They had me... suspended. So it all feels weird. Everything about walking but..." his voice was cracking, just on the  _weird,_ but there was the faintest grin that did something to Lance's breathing, "thank you. Thank you guys so much."

★✩

**keith - hours later**

He visited Red after Hunk and Pidge did some tests on his use of the leg. He had to do exercises though  Hunk scheduled him for rehab every other day, and even had more control of it now, it felt... shit, well, obviously it felt  _off_. 

But he could walk. He was free to go where he wanted after so much time doing  _nothing_.

He'd actually twirled at one point on his way over. Nobody had fucking seen him, and if you tell anybody, I'm shoving my sword down your throat.

The doors of the hangar opened and Red was on him almost instantly. She nudged her head under him so he could climb on.

 _You_  idiot _._

"I know," he pet between her eyes, "I'm stupid, and I'm never doing that again, and if I do you'll step on me, right?"

 _Correct._ She bumped her head up,  _I was incredibly worried._

He nodded, "Me too."

"Damn. That actually does sound really weird." Keith jerked. Red turned so he could see. Lance was at Blue's feet, leaning against her leg with his arms crossed, "Talking to the lions out loud, I mean. Without the rest of the conversation."

Keith sat back, "What are you doing here?"

"Checking on Blue and Red."

"Red?"

"Yeah. I, uh," he fiddled with the front of is jacket, "kinda took care of her while you were gone. Cleaned her up and everything."

His heart did an entire Olympic motherfucking layout. Listen,  _fuck_  you, Lance. 

Keith tapped Red's armor,  _Really?_

_Yes. He was scared and annoying most of the time, but he has a caring heart. Like most of Blue's paladins._

He unfastened and refastened his glove, "Thanks, Lance."

"All in a day's work," he beamed, kind of unsteady. Keith died. 

_You're over exaggerating._

_I was captured by a tyrannical alien race for a hot second, I think I'm entitled to a_ little  _bit of drama._

"So," Keith had Red drop him back off on the ground, "the quintessence was your idea?"

Lance straightened, "Yeah. Shiro's got the cool glowy thing going; it works with the aesthetic."

"I like it. It'll make it easier for me to kick your ass during training."

He scoffed, "As  _if_ , mullet."

Keith made a noncommittal noise, deciphering the wavering tone of his voice as trepidation. Red nudged his leg with her paw. He was extremely aware of Lance staring at him, analyzing. It was searching. Medical.

Pity.

A slimy feeling settled in his gut. Sputtered out the small fire forming in his chest. He schooled his face into a natural expression, a perk of his chronic RBF. “Well, I came to reintroduce myself with red. I have to talk with Coran about everything I missed. Thanks again,” he turned, balling his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

A small (miniscule, microscopic) part of him wanted Lance to say something, talk to him. There was an inhale, the beginning of a word. Nothing.

Keith kept walking.

★✩

Lance treated him differently. Meaning he treated him good. Not that Lance treated him badly Before. But nothing like then. For the next couple of days, between the rehab and constant checking on the prosthetic and redressing wounds that still didn’t quite close, he and Lance argued a total of two times.

Once verbally, over some comment Lance made about his hair, obviously. The second, accidental, when they both sat on the comfiest spot on the couch at the same time and tried to push each other out. Anyway, that night they’d reached for the last artificial bread roll at the same time and Keith was already bracing himself before Lance redacted his hand.

Shiro and Pidge saw, jaws dropping. Keith was… what’s the word? Shaken? Keith was shaken.

And he really didn’t need it. Not alongside barely being able to make eye contact with Shiro without seeing his blood spattered across his cheeks, dyeing his hair red. Or hearing a door close with a metal click, expecting Haggar to float through.

_Or take a bath with the water too hot without feeling it melt through his flesh, down into the bone—_

He woke up, gasping. His heart was jackhammering, almost painful against his chest. Sweat had cooled on his skin.

The blankets were tangled around him like hands, trapping his arms and legs and he scrambled out of bed, shoving his hair back. There was something that felt like a zigzag, electricity through his veins, buzzing faintly. He tried shaking it out, but it was all trapped.

His bayard caught his eyes where it hung hooked on the wall. His fingers were twitching. _He had to do something._

**✩★**

**lance**

_Something_ sure as hell woke him up. He didn't know what the hell it was but it was gonna have a burning hole in it soon enough. Lance lifted his head groggily. There was the faint sound of the whine of the metal on metal, a frustrated yell.

That he recognized, of course.

He rose an eyebrow and rubbed his eyes, cursing the fact he was close to the training room before his brain kicked him upside the head and reminded him Keith shouldn't be training.

And who the hell else would be training at... he didn't have a watch. Ass o' clock. He kicked the sheets off and put on his slippers, foregoing a shirt because it was hot (he was either extremely hot or extremely cold. There was no in between. It was a disgusting cycle). 

He froze at the entrance. It was definitely still before six because the doors were stuck open where Lance thought Keith had pried them open. A bad feeling gathered at the base of his spine. He squeezed through and closed the gap.

He turned and it was a distorted flashback.

Keith dancing just out of reach, slashing at the outstretched arms of the first android while the second swiped at his legs. How far was he that there were...

"Keith?" He tried but he didn't hear, or if he did, didn't listen, because he kept going, finally landing a clean jab into the second robot's stomach. It disappeared. It gave Keith a full view of Lance, but it did shit else, since Keith ignored him in favor of shouting for another android to drop.

Lance strode forward, "Keith, stop."

The simulation dropped on the ground with a thud, already charging at Keith. He gave it no attention, crouching to avoid it's sword.

He stood up and would've been hit in the back of the head if Lance hadn't grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "What the  _fuck—"_

"End training sequence Kogane," he played up his voice in an imitation of Coran, "system override: Uncle Thornberry." (Can you tell Lance had a say in the suggestions? Coran loved it.)

"Training Sequence: Kogane override accepted. End at Level Nine?"

"Jesus Christ Level—uh, yes. End at Level Nine." The androids disappeared and Lance let go of Keith. His skin was flaming despite the pale appearance, "How long have you been doing this? You can't be at Level Nine _—"_

"Fuck off," Keith growled. His hair fell limp over his forehead, shirt soaked through and through with the sweat that dripped off it.

"Keith, seriously _—"_

"Lance, seriously," his voice dripped acid, "fuck  _off_. _"_

He put both hands up, "Pidge told you _—"_

"I honestly _—"_ His fists whitened around the hilt, "I need to keep training."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. I need to get used to this—"

Lance responded dryly, "This doesn't look like getting used to it. It looks like overexertion. You're hurting yourself."

"Yeah, okay," he snorted, "what's a little bit of training gonna do to me that she didn't already do?"

He suddenly wished he had his shirt as his blood ran cold. "Keith—"

" _What_ , Lance? What? What do you want me to say?" He threw his arms out, coming up into Lance's space, "You said it yourself! I'm a mess right? This is how I fix it. I have to make myself better—"

"You were able to take down all those Galra by yourself, Keith, I think you're g—"

"That was  _before_  I got my leg hacked off. That was before I spent a week and a half at the hands of a psychopath, thinking—" He clamped his teeth together, "Lance, this is your last fucking chance. Fuck. Off."

Keith's entire body was a steel wall, everything rigid to the point of breakage. Lance took not even half a step forward, "No."

★✩

**keith**

Keith wanted to fight. He wanted to lunge at Lance and get _something_ happening. Before, Lance would have him pinned by now on the principle that he woke him up _alone_ by now. And he _wanted_ that. The distraction.

He wanted to kick and punch and smash their mouths together despite the fuzzy feeling of fear building up between his ribcage (It was fear, right? It had to be).

But… God. God, Keith was so tired. He was so, so tired.

✩★

**lance**

He hadn’t meant for it to be… Keith wasn’t a mess. Well, I mean obviously the guy was a mess, he slept with his shoes on. Not just a mess, a _heathen._

Pero, _berga_ , claro que he didn’t mean for it to be like that. “This isn’t okay. This isn’t some way to get used to this, this is un—“

“You pity me.” He could’ve whispered it, screamed it, and nothing changed. Lance still winced, “You’ve treated me differently ever since I got back. And I get I was gone, and thing’s are different but—but it’s hard enough not being able to even look at Shiro, waking up with her _face_ in my mind, without you… you…”

Keith was curled in on himself, skin a mess of white and red. He wasn’t wearing shoes or pants or even his dumb gloves, clad in only boxers and a shirt. His bayard was dragging on the floor, finally clattering unto it as his grip slipped. “I still don’t know if this is real. She messed me up. She would make me think you had come, gotten me out, then you’d—I’m waiting to o-open my eyes. I’m w-waiting to stop feeling her m-magic on me. Moving, distracting myself—I can’t stop, Lance. I got sick, m-my head started hurting, my leg went numb and I can’t _live—“_

His voice was hitching and Lance had stopped wishing the shine in his eyes was from lack of sleep, tears falling freely. He was swaying. Crumbling under the weight of his own heaving, and Lance ~~couldn’t~~ didn’t stop himself from coming forward, hugging Keith to him.

Though he half-expected to be pushed away, Keith’s arms immediately squeezed around his waist. His face fell on Lance’s shoulder, almost buried in his neck.

They sank to the floor, knees overlapping.

“I j-just want to be back. I want everything back to how—“ his grip tightened.

Lance closed his eyes, “You’re back, buddy. You’re here. I’m here.”

This was Keith. This was Keith, and Lance was cradling him in his arms, and— _oh._

_Oh._

“ I’m so—“

“Don’t apologize. D-Don’t.” His eyelashes shut against Lance’s chest, “Stay with me. Just— stay with me.”

They were quiet but for the ragged breathing, and Lance’s brain was still working on overdrive, coming up with more questions and no answers. He wanted to ask, talk. Talking helped, but somebody else could take up the job, because he just… hearing Keith say shit like that—

“I’m with you,” he said instead, “I’m with you, Keith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a prosthetic and am trying to format this sort of like a cartoon so not everything is accurate for that! If you have suggestions, message me on Tumblr!
> 
> Slide into my DMs~  
> Twitter: [@hivekyu](https://twitter.com/hivekyu)  
> Tumblr: [@paladon-t](http://paladon-t.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I've been wanting to start a groupchat on Twitter for talking about Voltron and Klance and Season 2 and stuff so if u want to do that or just talk 1-on-1 go on and follow me <33


	9. dont get excited fams

okay. hi! hello! to everybody!

dont get excited vemsjedvm

im not continuing this and i kno its been like a year and yall have probably gauged it pero i think i should give a Reason. 

i started this in a way different headspace than i am now. and it makes me,,,, not Uncomfortable, persay, to continue, but not,,,,,, right? Like i cant  _write_ for it. i dont want to? like idk theres just a lot a lota hurt in the fic and i dont really wanna be doing hurting right now. i mean! i do do the hurting lmao i cant like not write angst for some goddamn reason but not So Much. Not mental shit right now. im dealing w too much mentally Myself so in the spirit of the new season and my liking growth and building shit up instead of tearing it down,,,, im tearing it down djnvekjd

i just don't like it. i was too scatterbrained when i was writing it and i don't know how to continue, and even if i do have a plan, i don't like it. so uhhhh..,,, pf

im gonna delete this relatively soon because i kinda just dont want it here jdnvk. pls dont get super pissed. ill probably orphan it n u can find it still pero s not gon b here

stay safe and stay hydrated. peace.

and as of 06/17 i orphaned it cause peeps wanted it! enjoy rereading it whenever yall thanks for liking this mess and pushing me to keep writing<3

**Author's Note:**

> ✩★ we out this bitch ✩★


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